#like once a day you see him coming down the hall terminator style and are like OH SH IT

[bumblingbabooshka]

This is honestly the funniest set of words and images to be combined

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

"Ah. Dried blood."

{Gabriel looked down at the ground. Pools of dried blood and unidentified gore piles lined the icy textures of 9-3. He'd assume that the Machine went deeper for fresher blood, as a rational hunter would.}

{Gabe thinks again.}

"But... 9-4? Judecca? All I recall of Judecca is..."

{A vast expanse of freezing ice. Souls, billions strong, inches away from the surface, in however many kilometers across that one wishes to assume. It could very well be infinite. Gabe hadn't recalled any coasts in Judecca.}

{The archangel looked forwards, to the exit. It had also been filled with dried blood - perhaps the Machine needed a pick-me-up before falling further down?}

"Heh... classic Machine. Blood is fuel, and hell is full."

{...a more rational thought crosses Gabriel's mind.}

"..."

{Gabriel steps into the red hall, and looks down the icy cavern once called an elevator. Without much time of his own left, he decides to jump down. See if the Machine is still active.}

[TIME: 9:14.876 | A]

[KILLS: 0 | D]

[STYLE: 10 | D]

[OVERALL RANK: D]

[SECRETS: 0/5]

[CHALLENGE: null]

{Gabriel hadn't seen one of these before. Unusual. Intriguing. He'd like to see what the Machine had scored in the past, if this had been what it seen every time it fell down a new shaft.}

{Only another minute later, Gabriel landed down into the beginning of Judecca. 9-4.}

{Gabriel spied a terminal off to the right of a sloped hall. He walked up to it. Its Tip of the Day read:}

'blood was fuel. hell is empty.'

"...That's quite ominous. Perhaps the Machine had thought otherwise?"

{The terminal hadn't responded. Gabriel deems it fitting to leave the terminal alone, in search for his equal.}

{The doors opened to Judecca: a vast ice ocean, dark and despairing. Bloodied footprints were set into the ground just in front of the archangel.}

"Hmm... perhaps."

{Gabriel followed them.}

{For a very long time.}

{There is nothing but ice. The footsteps are long gone.}

{Gabriel continued further into the end of Hell.}

{Eventually, something new. A Malicious Face stood, staring off into the darkness.}

"A... face? Hello?"

{The Face turned towards Gabriel, sporting a different expression than the stoic fury that its others had worn, moments before being torn down by a bloodlusty robot.}

{It wore an expression of hopelessness.}

"...why are you out in Judecca?"

{It could not respond, even if it wanted to. The Face looked off into the deep dark deathy depths, walking on its tendrils, ever further.}

{Gabriel followed the Face with curiosity.}

{The cold of Treachery stabbed deep into Gabriel's old wounds, panging in his bones. He hadn't felt this sort of pain in a long time. Perhaps this was a long time coming.}

{The Face suddenly jolted forwards. It had spotted something Gabriel could not. Gabriel gave chase, a burning desire building within him.}

{After so long, the Face looked down at a lump in the ice.}

{Gabriel caught up, his wings glowing with ecstasy.}

"Quite the chase you've put up, eh, Maur... oh."

{The Face had found Gabriel's equal, far from the elevator. How long had Gabriel had to go before he fell, too? He hadn't remembered.}

{Gabriel kneeled in front of the Machine. It seemed to be pawing at its Railcannon in a desperate attempt to destroy the ice. The ice of which had concealed souls. Billions strong.}

"A valiant effort, Machine. Too bad it was in vain. I will miss you, for what it's worth..."

{...Gabriel sparked an idea.}

"Blood is fuel for it, however."

{His idea required a subject to endure the mortifying act of bleeding... dying, even. He looks to the Malicious Face.}

{The Malicious Face seems to know what Gabriel desires. It shakes horizontally, knowing that it won't be able to revive the lump in the ground. It would prefer to mourn it, rather than die in a vain attempt to bring it back.}

{Gabriel understands.}

"Why, perhaps? Is it too frozen, the ice too impenetrable? Would it try to kill me? Is it even possible?"

{Too many questions. Not enough time.}

{Gabriel kneels, there. He mourns the loss of what would once be called his equal. There were others, yes... but only the Machine was able to defeat him one on one. Sisyphus needed an army, and he still lost. Minos had considered peace, and yet his efforts were sinful, so he had to fall as well. He hadn't recalled anyone else... maybe someone lost to time.}

{Perhaps an unofficial character. Gabriel's thoughts recede.}

"Maurice. Would you care to sit with me?"

{The Face steps to Gabriel's side, resting its body next to the archangel.}

"Heh... perhaps we may all die in a frozen sort of peace. Er- well, not saying that the Machine died in peace - it seems quite desperate to continue living, as are all mortals. I do not blame it. That would be hypocritical."

"I, however, do not have much time left. You see, Maurice, I have a story to tell, if you'd like to listen."

{The Face turns a couple degrees to Gabriel's direction. It wishes to listen.}

"I was once a well-respected archangel. Everyone who knows of me knows my story. However, one day in Gluttony, this very machine challenged my judgement. Rather pridefully, I had tried to defeat it, and yet... it outlasted me. My loss rung out throughout the heavens, miles above."

"The Council deemed me unworthy of Our Holy Father's Light, and ripped His warmth from my body. I had 24 hours of life to remain an angel, and they sent me away. I was furious. Vengeful."

{Judecca's invisible jaws gnawed at Gabriel and Maurice equally.}

"The Machine had taken my legacy and turned me into a mockery of myself, and I was hateful. It took a while to reach my abode the next time."

"You see, once it had made its way into Heresy, I had decided to taunt it. It seemed to respond to it, only taking about ten minutes to reach my organ practicing room. The Machine and I fought heavily."

"Again, it won. This time however, it won my respect as well."

"It is a worthy foe. It... was a worthy foe, I suppose."

"Seeing as it's... well."

{Dead.}

{Gabriel took the sheathes for Justice and Splendor, and sat the twin swords below the Machine's frozen corpse as a sign of respect.}

{The Face paws at the lump with a tendril.}

{Gabriel can feel his armor welding itself to the ground.}

{The Face can no longer escape.}

"Maurice? How are you feeling, friend?"

{Maurice cannot emote, stuck to the ground.}

"...ah. You're stuck. I understand."

{Gabriel's down to his last seconds.}

"I can feel the end coming. Maurice, are you safe to continue alone?"

{Maurice hugs Gabriel with its tendrils. It's going to miss hanging out with an archangel.}

"...I feel you, homie. Thank you for your company."

{Resting a hand on Maurice's forehead, Gabriel falls silent and still. His light grows dark.}

{Maurice mourns his friends.}

{It's lonely in Judecca. As it's always been.}

{As it always will be.}

{Maurice hopes that, with its last thoughts, someone will tell stories of him.}

{All freezes in Judecca.}

[ronearoundblindly]

The Stark Legacy (10)

Wedding, part of Book 1: Reality (see previous or series)

Summary: Cooper Barton's wedding is missing a few key people. Unfortunately, it's not the ones Samantha Stark wants to avoid.

Warnings: Tony is still Tony and struggles to be good at fathering. Illusions to Hydra and past deadly missions between Nat and Bucky. Also YAY we're starting to get more of Bucky's story now! Rated Teen/Mature, so 15+ only, please. WC 4.2k

CHAPTER TEN—July 2038

“Whiskey, neat,” Tony ordered, rapping his knuckles across the marble top. He kept his head relatively low and his tinted glasses on, covering yet another shiner. One of these days, he thought, I’m really going to ruin my beautiful face.

“Thanks for coming.”

He turned to see Sam standing beside him in her long red bridesmaid’s dress. The gold jewelry and shoes shone like a beacon, more Iron Man than his very own wedding.

“I was so excited I could hardly pick a suit,” he replied, downing his whiskey and tapping the counter again. “Keep ‘em coming.” He slipped a one hundred dollar bill into the Murano glass jar.

“Champagne?”

Sam looked at him quizzically, adjusting her shawl across her shoulders and arms.

“You’re old enough right?”

“In several countries,” she said, “not this one.”

“I won’t tell,” Tony mumbled, swiveling to grab one of the pre-poured flutes from down the bar and handed it over. His eyes flicked towards the tables. “You and that boy seem cozy.”

His daughter blushed, rousing mixed feelings in Tony. Love and affection: he could remember the beginning but also the end, and now he resisted watching Sam go through the same.

She didn’t take his bait. “How are Big Sam and Parker?”

Tony hardly let the pour end before ripping the glass up to his lips. He tapped again. “They’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine.”

“I can come see Wilson—”

“Not necessary,” Tony blurted, straightening. “He’ll be out before you can visit.” He continued to look out over the tables of guests, some trickling onto the dance floor in the center of the hall.

It all took him back. He’d worn a grey suit, for Pepper, to match the free-flowing feel of her lace gown. No fabric was delicate enough to match her beauty that day. Everyday. Back then. He missed her neck and the way her hair would shift over it when she concentrated. Her head always lolled to the right when she worked. He used to rub her neck for her, call her lopsided, kiss her right cheek and push her head to the other side. He called it ‘evening her out.’

He’d expected to see her among the souls of Mephisto, just to catch a glimpse; the ghost of her, the fantasy, anything was better than nothing. Except nothing was all he got, no glimpse, no ghost, which felt much worse. Maria Stark had looked right at him, and as all moms do, she knew. His mother had come back just to see his misery and relive her disappointment. He couldn’t think about it anymore; that was the goal: distraction. Tony only showed up to this event to avoid silence with the team at headquarters.

Seeing your departed loved ones in Satan’s grasp will do that to you. Obviously, you don’t exactly want to talk about it with ‘others.’

“The chicken was dry.” Tony swirled his whiskey. “Should’ve had the steak.”

Tony tried not to notice the disappointment on Sam’s face. “Really,” she whispered, “nothing?”

He watched Bucky and Natasha approach, relieved. “Oh thank god, you can dance with Terminator here.” Tony patted Bucky once on the chest, asking “make it 40s-style and real awkward. You know, just be yourself.”

Natasha gave them both a look.

“What? I’m gonna go terrorize her date.” Tony swooped off before anyone objected.

Natasha delicately grabbed the untouched champagne from Sam’s hand. “I’ll take that.”

“I don’t suppose anyone would like to fill me in on what happened last week,” Sam thought out loud.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Nat answered, taking a large sip, scrunching her face a little as the bubbles attacked her nostrils. “I’m gonna need something stronger.”

Stoic, quiet Captain Barnes surprised Sam then. “Do you want to dance?” It was a sheepish question from a very bulky man.

Sam looked up at his face for the first time. His hair fell forward, strategically covering several cuts and minor, yellowing bruises. She stumbled for words. “I…think he was joking,” but even as she said it, the retreating Tony swiveled around and made a little hand gesture for dancing legs before continuing his b-line for Lucas. “Also,” she added, “I genuinely can’t dance.”

“No one can these days,” Bucky replied, flicking his eyes over the crowd of celebrators, “clearly.”

“Here we go with the ‘back in my day’ speech…” Nat finished the glass.

“No,” he buffed, “that’s not the point. I’m about 70% sure Stark actually meant that as some sort of order.” When the ladies continued to stare at him in confusion, he added, “it’s a delicate points system I’ve developed.”

Nat baulked. “Did you just…make a joke?”

“Leaving a 30% chance of being nicknamed to death for disobeying. Any bets on which references this time?”

Sam enjoyed the jabs at her father’s expense. “Did it take you twenty years to figure the points out?”

“Four, actually,” Bucky played along.

“So the sarcasm rubbed off on you in twenty years too…” Nat mumbled into a fresh drink.

“You didn’t get that gene?” Bucky shaded his face, but one corner of his mouth twitched anyway.

“I’m 50% sure that I did. Nature versus nurture and all, but I’m 100% sure you know him better.”

“Well,” Nat said, pursing her lips, “I’m only 12% sure I know why we are talking in numbers.”

“You speak Russian, German, Spanish, Italian, your French is okay, English, and probably more that I missed,” Bucky explained to Nat, then opened a palm indicating the other, “Sam speaks math, English, and from what Clint has mentioned, computer, correct?”

It was the most Sam had ever heard him say, and it must have shown on her face. Her clasped hands went a little slack. Her shawl slipped. Nat cut in, “you…what?”

Bucky seemed possessed with a boyishness for a moment. “I don’t just brood, ya know. I’m observant, and I listen.”

The ladies couldn’t come up with any words.

“But you do look lovely in red. 100% Tony there.”

“I think he blew a fuse,” Nat said out of the corner of her mouth.

“Guess their getting lazy with the cradle though,” Bucky added, pointing to Sam’s exposed arm. “Bruce couldn’t fix that for you?”

The playfulness in Sam’s eyes died immediately. He’d gotten cocky, too friendly in his attempts at distraction. She pulled the chiffon shawl back over as much of the arm as possible.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older. Excuse me.” Sam left. Bucky noticed something odd about her walk.

“That was smooth,” Nat snorted.

“I used to be good at talking to broads.”

“What century do you think it is?”

“Well,” Bucky started, shrugging, “you could just tell me who the girl was. The one on the field.”

“You know enough already. She was a mission, and I completed my mission. Now,” Nat replaced another empty glass with a fresh, bubbling flute, “don’t ever mention Sam’s arm to Tony. I’m really warning you, James.” She looked up at his cool blue eyes. “We don’t need that shit-storm coming down on us.”

“So, you’re really gonna keep me in the dark? As if I haven’t been there long enough,” Bucky dropped off, letting his hair fall in his face again.

“I had no idea this was a pity party,” Nat sipped, finally feeling the edge wear off. “Who did you see?”

Bucky paused, watching the festivities unfold, people chatting and dancing, taking pictures, drinking and eating cake. Both their gazes landed on Sam, retreating, and Nat continued in a low voice.

“Every single one of us have used that girl. You were drafted, but at least your father showed you the importance of service. I…knew what the Red Room would make me, and I kept going anyway. Sam didn’t get any choice. She did not get the benefit of orders. Her instruction is all over the place and at best made up of lessons designed for some other kid.” The pair watched Sam awkwardly evade people through the tables, careful not to touch anyone, her head always low. “The world thinks she’s part of us. We’ve done everything possible to make keep her out. No one has ever asked her what she wants. Worse yet, nobody asked us either. We know how that feels, and we went ahead and did it to Tony’s kid anyway.”

Bucky could think of some joke one-liners to respond with: ‘waxing philosophic on me, Romanoff,’ ‘are you a lightweight for champagne now,’ but that gave Bucky the sinking notion that she was right. The bad bits had rubbed off on them all—the glib, deflecting humor, the trivializing of life, the compartmentalizing of loss, the total failure to grieve, and the retardation of personal growth and change. Aside from changing allegiances, Natasha was much the same person she was thirty years ago. Apart from removing brain-washing, Bucky was much the same person he was one-hundred years ago. Why? Was their only comfort as a global, galactic fighting team to be constant?

Steve still complained to Bucky about how restless he was in retirement. Although, Steve Rogers complaining was more like a vague statement of interest and then hearty praise for the accomplishments of others, followed by silence, and then checking to make sure you were comfortable in his home. He couldn’t change; he couldn’t just hang up his helmet and walk away. Steve had to be a protector. Bucky had to be a soldier. Natasha had to be a weaver of webs. Banner had to research something and know why things happened. Tony had to know how to fix everything.

“Honestly,” Natasha finally started again, “I never realized how much I missed Pepper. Even as my fake boss, she was a really good woman. She was a great mother.” Nat trailed off in thought.

“I never had a real conversation with Mrs. Stark.” Bucky searched Nat’s thoughtful face, noticing just the slightest crinkle at her eyes. “She did order me around a few times, ‘stand here’ and ‘wait here’ and ‘not now.’ She wore the pants for sure.”

“At least I spoke French better than her,” Nat quipped.

“Barely,” Bucky chided.

Natasha gave him a look to kill. “You are in a surprisingly good mood…”

“I like to see what it is we fight for,” Bucky let his mouth run loose for a moment, “for people to not know about all the other…darkness we see.”

Nat said nothing, but she did turn to the party with a slightly higher regard for the lightness of mood. Humans were allowed their frivolity. They were allowed to celebrate love and have family and live carefree sometimes. The Avengers hardly remembered that; they’d seen far too much. The two stood there like wallflowers, shadowy figures envying the light.

Tony, however, was basking in compliments and accolades from Lucas who had not stopped his rundown of Stark’s every innovation since the ‘00s. The boy admitted right away to disagreeing with the ‘peacocking’ he accused the billionaire of imposing on the masses, those who could not wield such a large political stick. Lucas was opinionated for a twenty-two-year-old, even critiquing Stark’s choice of whiskey. He also became suspiciously quiet once Sam came over.

“Boys,” she said before sipping her coffee.

“Are you even old enough to drink that?” Tony puffed up a little, eyes still shaded under glasses.

“You’re about two years too late,” Sam replied flatly.

Tony eyed her formal red gown, covered shoulders and arms, the most conservatively dressed of the bridesmaids but the youngest as well. He didn’t see much of Pepper. Sam’s shoulders slouched a bit; she didn’t have the confidence of her mother. She drank from a porcelain mug without a delicate touch, just a clenched fist.

“Your—” Tony started, “dude here was just telling me about his biostasis research at Harvard and its potential applications for us in space travel. Fascinating stuff, but—” Tony couldn’t help but have fun with the kid. “—you may want to look into that power supply because its not exactly a flight-stable compound to be lighting on fire and shooting us out of orbit. Good start though.”

“Arc-reactor tech could power up to what, forty pods, for an 18 month flight, allowing for minimal life support but full navigation and communications,” Sam quickly rattled.

Tony peered over this glasses curiously, revealing a bruised corner of brow. “Twenty months,” he corrected, “give or take weight and distance you travel by thrust.”

“Among several factors,” Sam conceded, eyes down.

“Sir, if I could test some of the simulated outputs of that technology, it would go a long way,” Lucas jumped in.

“Down, Fido.” Tony gripped the young man’s shoulder without removing his eyes from Sam. “What’s Harvard been teaching you?”

Sam went bug-eyed, clutching her coffee. She hadn’t meant to say any of that out loud. Lucas always spoke about his research, and Sam listened, occasionally asking a leading question to have him self-correct a flaw in his logic. She never spoke of her own experiments because Lucas never asked, and she would never tell him.

“Harvard was supposed to teach me? I’m not a stud—”

“S’more!” Lila came rushing forward. “Sorry to interrupt, but will you come over for a picture?” She grabbed Sam’s arm without seeing her drink, and the hot liquid spilled all over Sam’s hand. “Oh god, we’ll clean that up first. We gotta redo your lipstick, too. Do you two mind?” Lila’s motherly round face beamed at Stark and Lucas. Lucas nodded as Tony waved his whiskey hand vaguely. “Family photo at the wedding, ya know,” Lila giggled and led Sam off to the ladies’ room.

That was all it took for Tony to see it. Sam’s ‘older sister’ taking her to put on makeup in the bathroom. Her ‘brothers’ and ‘parents’ waiting near the photographer. His daughter had another family, a whole family. She was a bridesmaid and a girlfriend and drank coffee and went to Harvard. Sam was almost eighteen, and Tony didn’t know anything about her. What had he expected? The more she grew, the more he saw only the Stark heritage, a mini-Howard, a mini-him. Today was the most feminine Sam had ever looked, but she was still covered and plain.

“Sir,” Lucas gently started, “I’ve also applied for the Stark Fellowship.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony mumbled into his glass, watching Sam and Lila return to pose for a family photo. Sam walked so awkwardly in heels, assuming that’s what she wore under the floor-length gown as did the other bridesmaids; Pepper never missed a beat in heels. She ran a company in heels, ran the world in heels, ran circles around the world in heels.

And then Sam smiled for the photo, and there she was. The angle of her jaw, the corners of her mouth, the lift of her cheekbones, the tilt of her long neck; Pepper was right there…or a piece of her.

Tony suddenly cocked his head towards Lucas. “S’more?”

Lucas, caught off-guard by the subject change, took a moment to reply. “Samantha Morgan. Sss-Mor. Coop told me it was her childhood nickname. I just thought… you gave it to her…”

Tony clenched his teeth, looking down at his nearly empty glass. “I’ll see what I can do about that application if you keep working on the power supply,” he said, giving one last tap on the young man’s arm and walking back to the bar. “But right now, I need a drink.”

Sam roamed the infirmary hall of Avengers headquarters still in her flowing red gown. She carried her change of clothes in a bowling bag formerly used by Howard Stark, another Christmas pick from Storage Basement E, and her gold shoes. No one was here to see her limp along on sore feet; the after-party celebration had moved to a bar where Sam may have been welcome but incredibly bored, so she’d opted to come visit Sam Wilson. Unsurprisingly, Lucas saw some benefit to schmoozing the ‘family.’

In one room she saw MJ sitting beside Peter Parker while their children loudly reenacted a play or perhaps a dance. Sam couldn’t tell from her angle at the window. MJ gave a small wave to Sam, but Peter was too busy providing the sound effects for the performance. Sam smiled but moved on. It was beautiful to see a family together. They weren’t a strange sort of sight, but Sam always felt such a distance from that joy. All her life was ’not-quite’: Clint was not-quite dad, Laura not-quite mom, Coop, Lila, and Nate not-quite siblings, the Avengers not-quite uncles and aunts. The only absolutes were Samantha was related to Tony and Tony chose to give her away.

A few doors down was Falcon’s room, a soft trail of music wafting from inside. 

—Over the shadows and the rain to a blossom covered lane—

When she gently pushed open the door, Sam first saw Steve Rogers sleeping in a chair, arms crossed over his chest. Then she saw Sam.

His head was covered in electrodes, face covered in an oxygen mask, and hooked to a feeding tube. This was a lot worse than Tony had let on. Samantha was shocked enough to smash her bag against the door frame trying to enter, waking Steve and dropping her shoes. 

—Faint as a will o’ the wisp, crazy as a loon, sad as a gypsy serenading the moon, Oh skylark—

Ever the gentleman, Rogers quickly picked up each heel and handed them back. He said nothing but smiled and offered his chair for her to sit. Sam pointed to a chair on the opposite wall, and whispered, “will I wake him?”

“No,” Steve replied in a low, calm voice, “he just enjoys Aretha. How was the party?”

Sam gave him a questioning look.

“I came back here after the ceremony. Not much for dances anymore.”

“It was loud, and everyone drank a lot,” Sam said, putting her stuff down to drag the chair close to the bed. Steve snorted. It seemed the seventeen-year-old and hundred-and-thirteen-year-old moved at about the same pace. Samantha tentatively went to Wilson’s side. “Will he wake up?”

“That’s—” Steve hesitated, evaluating what Sam was old enough to hear. “We don’t really know. Head trauma hasn’t made the same leap as other medicine, so we…hope.”

Little Sam took Big Sam’s hand. His skin felt comfortingly warm. “He’ll always have much bigger hands than me,” she reminisced. “I used to think mine would catch up one day.”

Steve absently mumbled, “yeah, there’s a lot you didn’t get from Stark,” before taking his seat again. He was silent for a while, watching Sam and Sam. “Natasha told me about—” he waved his hand over his left side “—years ago.”

Samantha didn’t move.

“I never told anybody else, but I am sorry that I didn’t come see you.”

She remained staring at Sam Wilson’s slow breath fog his mask. He wasn’t on a respirator, a good sign. Little Sam, her first nickname from a friend. She could remember being sad and angry when Big Sam’s visits became less and less frequent. He called less and less. Sam Wilson had taught her humor and sarcasm more than anyone else. He’d explained that having emotions and acting on emotions were two very different things. Big Sam was her big brother, more so and for longer than any Barton, and he just lay there with warm hands and slow breath.

Sam herself breathed deliberately and slow. “It wasn’t your fault, so…” Her eyes met Steve’s.

“I used to put newspaper in my shoes. My feet were too small,” he pointed to her things on the floor, “and I see you now wear two different height of heels.”

“I don’t usually wear heels. Or dresses.”

“Special occasions…” Steve drifted into thought, looking at Wilson’s face, his profile warped under the plastic mask. Steve could remember being small, overlooked by other children, tormented even, saluting all those participating in the defense of his nation while he stayed at home. He remembered the desperate need to contribute, the mania of skirting rules over and over to prove he was worthy. He could see the same desperation in Samantha Stark. She was locked outside the building banging on the door, or at least, it was obvious to someone who’d been there before. It occurred to him that she would want to know not only what happened to her father but to their friend also.

“They saw the dead, Sam.” Steve paused to watch the girl’s face, but she did nothing. If she was curious, she didn’t show it. If she was horrified, she didn’t show it. 

“That was the enemy last week: people who died long ago. For a few of us it was men and women killed by our own hands.” It was clear he didn’t want to mention the assassin past of Bucky or Natasha. He got quieter. “I think Tony may have seen your mother,” Steve slowed seeing Sam slightly adjust to hear him better, “and I can’t imagine how painful that would be.” He leaned forward on his knees. The silence remained cold but open. Sam placed Wilson’s hand on his stomach and returned to her chair, farther away, watching.

He continued, “Ghosts of those you’ve harmed, someone you…it’s not something you forget. I wasn’t there but I know what it feels like to regret what you did with the time you had…” He could feel himself slipping into his own thoughts and tried to buckle down to his point. “We all see and do things in war, in battle, that we aren’t proud of, that we wouldn’t do without desperation. I think Tony—I think because your father didn’t have the training we had, he can’t reconcile a…domestic life with his professional life. He was not acclimated to the mindset of a soldier before the wormhole opened up in New York, but he’s been in the loss for…a long time.”

“I think you’ve been thinking alone in a cottage too long.”

Steve, so used to everyone else’s sidebar sarcasm, went on. “I lost my parents young, but I had my best friend. Bucky never knew his mom, and he was there when I buried mine—”

“Yes, he was there for Pepper’s too.”

Steve stopped his rant at the mention of that awful, emotional, and chaotic day.

Eventually, Samantha composed herself enough to say, “I have no one like that, sir.”

Her formality was endearing. Steve recognized the defensive distancing. “That’s what worries me.”

The beat that followed altered the chemistry of the room. Sam went rigid. “Did it worry you last year?” She let the bitterness gnaw at the bottom of her stomach, a low, sickening rumble that grew into a white hot anger. “What about five years ago? Ten years ago? Why bring it up now?”

“I’m just trying to empathize—”

“You see a girl, don’t you? You look at me and see a little girl. Perhaps a four year old,” Sam tried to reign herself in but failed. She had made it through so much and never lost control like this. “Now, try to really look at me. Sir,” she spat, “I’m a lop-sided girl with a billion dollar inheritance. I’m damaged goods with the mind of Tony Stark. I am…never going to fit here. I was outsourced. Like everything he’s ever created except the suit…” 

It was true, but the flame burned out as fast as it came on. What remained was simply blank, empty. “Everyone here, they see me as a follow up to him, and I just…want to do something else, something he can’t.”

Before he thought about his words, Steve quipped, “well, you fall off the bike, you get back on.”

Sam went silent, as Steve straightened himself up, regretful of his blunder.

“Ms. Stark,” he finally asked, “would you like anything from downstairs?”

“Coffee with cream,” she replied after a moment, “please.”

Steve noted that Sam, like Pepper, was respectful even when offended.

After Rogers had left, Samantha spoke to Big Sam as if he could hear her confession. “Sometimes I wish my remaining parent were one of you, the ones who actually raised me. I know you guys, or at least I feel like I do, but I look at him… and I just don’t see how he could…I understand why I feel better alone.” She held his hand again. A long moment passed, and suddenly she felt so uncomfortable in that dress she could scream. “I promise, I’ll be back. Just putting on my sweats, like you once said, ‘it’s a crime to look this good. Better save your eyes the glory.’” 

As she chuckled at the memory, Sam could hear the energetic voices of those returning for the night’s festivities. She gave an unseen apologetic glance to Falcon; she’d have to go now. When she picked up Howard’s bag, however, Rogers was back with coffee, standing in the doorway. He wore one of the saddest smiles she’d ever seen, and in a low voice said. “You are beautiful, just like your mother.”

She walked to the doorway with her things, her face reddening. 

“I know he’d be glad you came.”

Sam paused in the threshold. She’d found the purpose. “I’m going to fix this,” Sam said, meeting his eyes, “Captain.” She plucked one of the coffees from Steve’s hand and left for the night. She had work to do in Massachusetts.

[Ch 11: Plunge]

[Main Masterlist]

[mypoisonedvine]

Double Take | Charles Blackwood x reader (with a special guest...)

summary: Charles Blackwood and Bucky Barnes are twins, adopted by different families.  For the first time, Bucky has something that Charles wants: a girlfriend.  And what’s the point of having a twin if you can’t use it to switch places at least once?

warnings: smut (dub con), loss of virginity, lots of little manipulative things from our classic manipulator charles, infidelity, daddy kink, innocence kink, praise kink, corruption kink, (slightly?), a lil degradation but not really

word count: 4.7k 

Charles Blackwood was definitely not jealous of James Barnes.  Charles had been adopted by a more affluent family than James had; he’d never wanted for anything, while James had grown up in a more traditional suburban environment.  The few times they’d met throughout their childhood, Charles had always been shocked at the way the Barnes family lived.  Hand-me-down toys, no television, and not even a nanny or maid!  

And yet, James didn’t seem to mind.  He’d always been a little dim-witted, Charles figured.  Didn’t he see how well Charles lived and wish that he’d been the one adopted by the Blackwoods?  

No, James was just fine being a Barnes, apparently.  What Charles really could never get his head around was how much they all talked to each other.  Mrs. Barnes asked him more questions in that one afternoon visit than Mrs. Blackwood had probably his whole life.  Mr. Barnes was more excited about Charles’ high marks in school than Mr. Blackwood could even dream of.  

It was all rather peculiar.  Who were these people and from where did they get their bottomless energy, their incessant peppiness?

That was why Charles had stopped visiting them as soon as he was old enough to decide not to.  They’d never been close anyways, and him and his twin had never really gotten along.  Yes, it was odd to know someone who looked so like him but who was so terminally different, but after a while it just became a fact of life for the both of them.  

He’d heard that twins often looked less alike as they got older, so Charles hadn’t expected to see an exact double of himself that day on the street.  For just a moment, the shock was just as strong as it would’ve been if he’d never known he’d had a twin, simply because he spent so little time thinking about it.  But there he was-- Bucky, as he’d heard he went by now, looking like a spitting image in the rearview mirror of Charles’ car, walking down the sidewalk arm-in-arm with a young woman.

You were laughing at something he’d said, your head tossing back as you reached up to shyly cover your smile with your free hand.

And now Charles understood why his brother was never jealous of him.  Sure, Bucky hadn’t had the quality of belongings or opportunities that Charles had, but it was clear that he’d acquired something money can’t buy.

Charles Blackwood was truly and properly jealous of James Barnes.  And he didn’t care for it one bit.  Thankfully, as always, he had a plan.

~

“Bucky, hey!” you called out as you saw your boyfriend across the park.  He didn’t turn at first and you wondered if he hadn’t heard you, but then he did.  

His smile was a little different, somehow, but it still melted you instantly.  He opened his arms and you ran to him, nearly knocking him down with the force of your hug.

“I know it’s barely been a week but I’ve missed you terribly,” you admitted, holding him tightly.  

“I’ve missed you too, darling, more than you could know,” he replied as his hands slipped around your waist.

“Your hair… you’ve done something different with it,” you noticed as you pulled back from the embrace.

“Oh, this?” he smiled, reaching up to touch it.  “Yeah, I think they reformulated my hairspray.”

“I didn’t know you used hairspray!” you giggled.

He shrugged.  “I figure my secret is safe with you.”

“You know, I thought it was sort of romantic that you asked me out with a letter at my door!” you remembered.  “Did you have somebody else write it for you?  I hope you won’t be offended, but I’m confident your handwriting isn’t that nice.”

“Sometimes a phone call is too impersonal,” he explained.  “And I’ve been working on my cursive.”

“Regardless, it was sweet,” you smiled shyly, “you know, old-fashioned-- in a good way.”

“Seems like a nice way of saying that you think I’m behind the times,” he accused with a smirk.

“No!” you denied.  “Being a gentleman never goes out of style.”

“Oh,” he chuckled, a strange sparkle in his eye, “I’m no gentleman at all, my dear.”

~

It was a wonderful date; a walk in the park at first, then a quick stop for some ice cream.  You could’ve sworn he spent more time watching you lick your cone than he did eating his, but you paid it no mind.  If anything, it made you feel oddly excited-- and beautiful.  

You stopped briefly as you passed by a jeweler on the street, admiring a beautiful necklace on display.

“Do you like it?” he asked from behind you, and you could just see his reflection above yours in the glass.

“Who wouldn’t?” you chuckled.  “It’s lovely.”

“Do you want it?” he pressed, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder.  You turned around, giving him a confused look.  

“I mean, sure,” you furrowed your brow, “but… I wasn’t really expecting anything…”

“Let me buy it for you,” he offered.

“F-for Christmas?”

“For now,” he corrected.  “For fun.  Because you deserve it.”

“Deserve it?” you blinked, trying to comprehend his words.  “It’s twenty dollars, Bucky.  It’s more expensive than anything I own.”

“That’s a shame,” he frowned.

“What would I even wear it with?!”

“You could wear it with a feed bag with holes cut for your arms, and you’d still look ravishing,” he dismissed.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but--”

He stopped you, stepping closer and slipping his hands onto your back with a smile.  “Darling, you deserve to be spoiled.  Is it so crazy that I want to see my best girl wearing only the best things?  Now wait here while I pop inside and buy it.”

You barely had time to protest before he’d stepped in the door, the little bell ringing as he waved down the jeweler.  Sure enough, you saw him reach in to the window display to take the necklace out, pulling off the tag while Bucky wrote a check.  You didn’t even know Bucky had a checking account, let alone one with enough in it to buy you such an extravagant gift… not that you were going to complain.  No, you just blushed and smiled nervously, pulling your hair up and out of the way so your boyfriend could put the necklace on you.  His fingers brushing against the back of your neck made your eyes flutter shut as you felt like you could melt into it.

“How does it look on me?” you asked shyly as you turned around, letting your hand trail down the chain.

“Sparkles almost as much as your eyes,” he grinned.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” you murmured.

“Don’t worry about that,” he purred.  “I should probably take you home soon, right?”

“R-right,” you agreed, wishing the date wouldn’t have to end so soon.  “But maybe we should wait longer.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, my mom and sister won’t be home for another few hours,” you explained, “so we might as well kill some time so I can meet them when they get back.”

“Or,” he suggested, “we could go there now, and I’ll keep you company until they get back…”

You liked that idea, but felt guilt pang in your gut.  And yet, you suddenly didn’t know how to say no to him while you were wearing his expensive gift around your neck.  So, hand-in-hand, you walked back to your house.

~

“You’ve seen the living room before,” you remembered, “but I don’t think you’ve seen the kitchen.”

“It’s a little small, isn’t it?” he noticed as he looked around.

“Yeah, but it’s comfortable,” you shrugged.  “And it’s home.”

“What about your bedroom?” 

You froze.  It was already a bit risky to let him in at all-- if the neighbors had seen, they would certainly talk.  But you cared so much more of what Bucky thought of you than what they did.

“I don’t mean to be too forward,” he chuckled.  “It’s just, don’t you think somebody’s bedroom says a lot about them?”

“You’re right,” you nodded, “and I didn’t think it was forward.  I just worry sometimes…”

“I know,” he smiled, “it’s endearing.”

You led him down the hall and around the corner to your bedroom.  “Now I’m worrying that it’s a little girlish,” you admitted as you opened the door and revealed the pink, frilly visage of your room.  

“It’s perfect,” he denied.  “Innocent and adorable, just like you.”

“Do you remember when you won this for me at Coney Island?” you beamed, picking up a small stuffed rabbit from your bed.  “I’ve slept with it every night--”

You stopped as you turned around to find him standing right in front of you, his face much more serious than before.  You looked down suddenly, afraid his gaze would pierce right through you; his finger slipped under your chin, gently pulling up your face until you looked at him.

“Bucky…” you mumbled, a little surprised.  He said nothing, his hand trailing down over your neck, toying with the chain of your new necklace briefly, before running along the neckline of your dress.

Your body tensed, even as a paradoxical warmth was spreading between your legs.  The way he touched you made you feel nervous, excited, guilty, and desperate all at once.

You’d wanted Bucky to touch you like this for a while now, but you’d known it was better that you didn’t.  As much as you didn’t understand why he was suddenly interested in doing something you both knew was wrong, you weren’t exactly complaining either.

Suddenly he kissed you, and it was so different from every other time he’d done it.  His tongue slipped into your mouth and you let out a little moan of surprise; his teeth grazed your lip and it made you feel wonderfully dizzy.

“You are so beautiful,” he cooed as his kisses trailed to your neck.  You could barely contain your moans then, your head falling back as you melted into his arms.  “So shy,” he continued, “so precious.”

You pressed your body closer to his, loving the way his hard, muscular form complemented your softer curves.  You felt him smile against your skin, giving a playful bite to your collarbone which made you yelp a little.

“I’ve wanted you ever since I first saw you,” he whispered as he pulled you closer.  “Knew I had to make you mine.”

He pulled back and you looked up at him with wide eyes.  “Really?”

“Of course,” he chuckled, “don’t you want me?”

“Yes,” you answered quickly.  “I’m already yours, Bucky.”

His face shifted suddenly.  “Don’t call me that,” he frowned.  

“Wh-?” you began to ask, but he anticipated it.

“Call me ‘daddy,’” he smiled.

You gasped a little, feeling heat burn from under the skin of your cheeks.  “I- I don’t know… it’s a little strange, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s perfectly normal,” he soothed, but you found it difficult to relax as you felt his fingers trailing down your back, and then fiddling with the buttons of your dress. “Not all the time, of course.  Just… when we’re doing something special.  Something secret.”

You breathed out shakily as your dress fell to the floor, leaving you only in your undergarments.  You might have worn nicer ones if you’d realized what would be happening, but he didn’t seem to mind the plainness of them as he let out a low groan, tracing the line of your bra over your chest.

You instinctively began to wrap your arms over yourself but he gently pried them away.  “Let me look at you, darling.  You’re gorgeous.”

He sat down on the bed and motioned for you to sit beside him, and you awkwardly obeyed.  

You jumped when he touched you again-- this time tickling your thigh with the tips of his fingers-- and you chewed your lip as you tried to look away.

“You know what I want to do, don’t you?” he asked you darkly.

“I don’t know if I’m ready--” you murmured, even though you felt your body reacting so positively to the way his fingers moved up your leg.  His touch left goosebumps in its wake, and you felt your back arch without having meant to do it.

“Don’t you love me?” he pressed, and his voice was sad but his gaze never moved from where his hand was now wrapping around your inner thigh.  

“Of course I do,” you promised.

“I just want to show you how much I love you,” he explained, “that’s all.  I’ll make you feel so good, darling.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that but then he leaned in and placed an aggressive, wet kiss to your neck, teeth grazing over your pulse point, which made your heart race wildly.

“Ohh, Bucky,” you moaned softly.

He tutted disapprovingly as he suddenly pushed your legs apart.  “Try it again.”

His pointer finger drew a delicate line along your panties, right between your lips, and you shivered.  “D-daddy,” you finally stuttered out.  You felt him grin against the slickened skin of your neck.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, and you felt your chest warm with his compliment.

His hands wrapped around your waist and they felt so strong and hot-- not as rough as you’d imagined, but masculine nonetheless.

He gently pushed you back to lay on the bed, rubbing you through your panties as you gasped.  His eyes watched you with a smoldering intensity as you squirmed and whined at the strange sensations his fingers were bringing you.  

You shivered when those fingers pulled the fabric aside, finally touching your swollen and sensitive folds.  Honestly, you’d been expecting more of a reaction, but instead he instantly pushed his middle finger into your opening; he touched you like he knew exactly what he was doing, and though you weren’t sure how he knew what he was doing, you were too focused on how good it felt to care.  He slipped a second finger in and your head fell back onto your pillow.

“O-oh, god, daddy,” you whimpered, your legs quivering a bit as pleasure jolted your body.

“You like how I’m making you feel?” he presumed with a smirk.

“Yes,” you gasped, unintentionally kicking your legs with joy, “yes, yes, yes, I do.”

He leaned in to kiss you again, trapping your mouth in his.  His fingers twisted inside you, putting pressure against your walls just as his thumb brushed over your clit.  Your muscles tightened around him, and he shut his eyes as he let out a low groan.

“I think you’re ready for me, baby,” he decided, his fingers slipping out of you suddenly and instead fumbling with the buckle of his belt.

“D-daddy,” you stammered, jolted from your bliss to shock and confusion.

“Oh, you’re so perfect,” he praised, “I know you’re a little scared.  It’ll be good, I promise.  I could never hurt you.”

He must have sensed that you weren’t quite convinced as you began to move back on the bed slightly.

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asked, his voice deepening while you watched him take his hard cock from his trousers.  You nodded, but the size of it… intimidated you, to say the least.

Before you could slide back again, he caged you in with strong hands above your shoulders.

“Darling, say that you trust me,” he demanded.

“I trust you,” you assured, looking up at him and wondering when his eyes got so dark.

He reached down to spread your legs for him once more, but never looked away from your face.

“Say that you love me,” he requested, quieter yet firmer.

“I love you,” you answered, but the moment the words had left your lips, he pushed his hips forward and forced his cock into you.  You were wet but it didn’t make it an easy fit at all; you cried out and instantly grabbed his shoulders tightly, your whole body clenching with the pain.

"Shh," he soothed, but the way he kissed you was rough and strong and dominating.  He pulled back and slammed forward again, making you whimper into his mouth.

"It hurts," you whined as you turned your face away, wincing when the way he pulled you closer only heightened the sting.

"Oh, I know, but you're doing so well darling," he praised, "you're taking me so well.  It'll feel so good soon, if you're just a little more patient for me.  Can you do that?"

You nodded, and he stilled inside you bringing some relief.  "Say it properly, please," he requested.

"Yes, daddy," you answered shyly. 

He smiled and kissed you quickly before thrusting again, a little slower.  

The pain was starting to dull as you felt pleasure overtaking it, pleasure unlike anything you’d felt before.  You felt so full in a strange but addictive way.  You bit your lip as moans started to pour from your lips.

“Don’t get quiet for my sake,” he encouraged, “I wanna hear you, darling.  I want you to show me how good I make you feel.”

“D-does it feel good for you?” you asked nervously.  He grinned and leaned back to run his hands over your legs, and even kiss the inside of them a few times.  

“Darling,” he growled, “you feel incredible.  You’re everything I dreamed you’d be.”

You sighed with relief, though it turned to a gasp as he began to move faster.  His cock massaged your walls so perfectly, and you felt pressure building inside you as the pleasure turned from relaxed to searing.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he noticed.

“Y-yes,” you admitted, feeling your face burn.  You felt guilty for liking it so much.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, “it’s supposed to feel good.  All good girls love their daddy’s cocks.  You love it, don’t you?”

You moaned as you nodded, that pressure getting stronger until you were worried you would get light-headed.  “I… I feel funny,” you stammered.

“You’re about to come, darling,” he explained.  “It’s a good thing.  It feels good.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, trusting him even though you were a little afraid of what would happen when you came.

"Go ahead, come on my cock.  I know you're so close.  Come for me."

You were wondering what you would have to do to obey him, but then you realized all you would have to do was let his pleasure wash over you-- and now, there was nothing you could do to stop it.

“I-I’m coming, daddy!” you yelped, and all at once that coil of energy snapped inside you.  Your whole body tensed and jolted involuntarily, moans getting louder until it almost sounded like screaming.  You hoped he knew that these were good screams, and you weren’t in pain.

He seemed to, because he kept going, fucking into you harder and rougher.  “Fuck, you like that baby?  You like how I feel inside you?”

“I do,” you nodded quickly, “feels so good…”

You started to feel sort of sleepy and confused, your head heavy from the exhausting pleasure of having just come.  He smiled down at you, admiring your fucked-out expression as you gave in completely to your body’s needs.

“Such a perfect little cunt,” he growled, the filthiness of the word only barely registering in your fuzzy brain.  “You get even wetter when you come, darling, and so fucking tight… god I never wanna stop.”

“Don’t ever stop,” you begged, “you feel good, daddy.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” he warned, “you’re so delicate, you couldn’t take it.  You’ll be begging me to stop by the time I’m done, darling.  Gonna ruin this needy little hole.”

His words made you feel nervous and confused, but oddly aroused.  That coil was tightening again, already.  You wanted more; you weren’t sure you could ever get enough.

“Daddy, I-- I’m gonna come again, if you don’t stop,” you admitted sheepishly, looking down to watch the way his cock disappeared into your body.  You could hear how wet you were each time he thrusted forward, and it was shameful but addictive.

“Look at you,” he purred, “you love it.  You were made for my fuckin’ cock, darling.”

He leaned down and kissed you again, his thrusts changing from fast and reckless to slow but deep.  He pulled back languidly only to slam home harder every time, making you cry out against his lips.

He reached down to hook your legs in his arms, pushing them back until you were bent into a strange position-- when he moved again, his cock brushed against something so deep inside you that you worried there would be none of you left.

You winced and gurgled from the feeling-- it wasn’t quite painful, but it was close to it, along with incredibly intense.  “Oh, daddy,” you gasped.

“You didn’t even know somebody could fuck you like this,” he posited.  “You didn’t even know you could feel this good.”

You nodded breathlessly, your body shaking and shivering underneath him.  This time when you came, it seemed to never end.  He just kept going and you were sure you would stay suspended in this pleasure forever so long as he didn’t stop.

“Fuck, you’re coming, aren’t you?” he growled.

You nodded again.

“I’m close too, darling,” he admitted.  “Beg me to come.  I know you want it inside you.  Ask me nicely.”

“D-daddy,” you moaned, too lost in it to remember how dangerous this was, “I want you to come… I want it inside me…”

“Fuck, I know you do,” he groaned, his head falling back as his thrusts became more erratic.  “Gonna fill up this wet little pussy, gonna claim you with my come-- you’re mine forever, darling.”

“Yours,” you gasped, “all yours, daddy.”

“Fuck!” he cried suddenly, his voice breaking as he pushed as deep into you as possible.  You could feel his cock flexing against your walls, pushing you to your absolute limits, as he came.

You both laid there, nearly frozen still, as your breathing began to slow down a bit.  He moaned when he pulled his softening cock out of you, and took a moment to watch his come leak out of your hole before falling limp beside you.

You blinked to clear your spotty vision; you were sure you were experiencing a pleasure-induced hallucination, or maybe the force of it was just making you see double… because how was your boyfriend in bed with you, and simultaneously standing at the door?

Bucky’s arms wrapped around you slowly, holding you to him, and it was the way the other Bucky weakly called your name that made you know it was the one in bed with you that was the impostor.  He called your name as if he couldn’t believe it was you he was looking at; you understood the feeling.

“Bucky, I--” you started, with no idea what to say.  “What’s going on?”

Bucky’s shock shifted to anger, and you tried to struggle against the arms holding you back but it was fruitless.

“Charles,” Bucky hissed.  “This is… how could you?”

“The difference between you and I,” the voice behind you, just like his, began to explain, “was never money, or random chance.  We had the same opportunities…”

His fingers traced over your thigh and you shuddered.

“...I just knew how to take them.”

“I didn’t know,” you tried to explain, “I thought it was you--”

The other man-- Charles, as Bucky had called him-- clamped a hand over your mouth.

“Your girlfriend’s a bit of a whore, James.  I mean, sort of a tough nut to crack but damn, once you get inside--”

“Shut up,” Bucky seethed.  “Stop talking.”

“You heard her call me ‘daddy’, right?” Charles laughed.

Bucky tightened his jaw, silently answering the question.

“You heard her beg me for more?  Beg me to come inside?” Charles continued.

Bucky stormed across the room, jumping on top of the both of you to wrap his hands around Charles’ neck. 

“Me!” Bucky yelped, “she thought it was me!”

“Still could be,” Charles managed to grumble out through the pressure on his throat.  

Bucky’s face shifted, anger turning to something… else.  Shock, maybe, but it was more than that.  He looked at you, eyes fierce and wild.

His hands relaxed from Charles’ throat, who coughed a little as he caught his breath.

“Do you love me?” Bucky asked you quickly as he moved off of Charles and hovered over you.

“O-of course,” you stammered, tears welling in your eyes.

He leaned back to undo his belt, and Charles laughed.  “Don’t let my come get in the way or anything.”

“I won’t,” Bucky growled before roughly thrusting his cock into you.  Your head fell back but he was already fucking you hard and rough.  His body was the same as Charles’ but he felt completely different.  He fucked you with so much anger and ferocity, and as sick as it made you feel, it felt good, too.

“Bucky,” you gasped, “s-slow down…”

It fell on deaf ears as he grabbed your hips and pulled them up so every thrust was as deep as possible.  You felt like putty in his hands, and you loved it.  Though you didn’t know why, you wanted him to use you.  You wanted him to make you his again, the way you’d been before, erase everything that had happened with you and this… stranger laying beside you.  Who, by the way, was watching the whole ordeal with a raised eyebrow, seemingly more curious than jealous.

Bucky leaned down until his whole body was covering yours, and you wrapped your arms around his wide, muscular back.

“You feel… so good…” he whispered huskily against your ear, and you heard the strain in his voice.  “I can’t last…”

“It’s okay,” you soothed, “I want you to feel good, Bucky; I want you to come.”

“Not until you do,” he said with determination in spite of the way his whole body was shaking, “not until you know that you need me.”

You could only respond with broken moans as he reached down and rubbed your bundle of nerves with his thumb.  He watched the way you cried out and struggled underneath him, the pleasure so intense that your body could barely take it.

“Bucky, please!” you sobbed, not exactly sure what you were asking for, but he kept going, moaning loudly and reaching up to hold onto your headboard even as his own thrusting slammed his knuckles into your wall.

He made a noise that made your heart twist-- something like a whimper and a growl all at once-- and you knew he was coming, but he didn’t stop.  Even when he looked like he was going to hurt himself, even when sweat rolled down his brow and made his hair cling to his face, he didn’t stop.  You came undone all at once, feeling your walls tighten so hard that you were afraid they’d cramp up or something.  Tears burned your eyes from the sheer force of it; your fingers dug into his back through his clothes.

Finally, he let himself slow down to a stop.  You sighed, still feeling little aftershocks reverberate in your body.

“Charles, 2; James, 1,” Charles mumbled to himself as he sat up, patting his twin on the back.  “Good try, though.”

Bucky shoved him off, so hard that he rolled off your bed and onto the floor with a thud.  You wanted to check that he was okay but Bucky grabbed your jaw and kissed you deeply.  When he pulled out, you could feel the rush of warm, sticky come as it left your body.  You felt blissfully disgusting, filthily beautiful.

“Bucky, I didn’t know,” you attempted to explain through your panting breaths, “I never would’ve-- I thought it was you--”

“I know,” he shook his head.  “I know.  It’s okay.”

You could tell that it wasn’t okay.  He was devastated, it was all over his face.  This wasn’t how you wanted any of this to go.  

“Can I ask you something strange?” Bucky requested.

“Of course,” you agreed quickly.

“Where did you get that necklace?”

Charles’ face popped out from across the edge of your bed, painted with a prideful grin.

[dangerouslcve]

Hey , can you pleas do a tom felton one , that we are super populair and we have many fans and we are toms crush , somthing with an interview with Ellen DeGeneres and Jimmy Fallon , Youre stories are amazing

- - -

Pairing: Tom Felton x female reader

Warnings: none

A/n: Awe, you are so sweet. Thank you for the interesting request. :)

- - -

“Oh sweet, I’m derek.” the man introduces himself once you get inside of the building away from the large crowds of screaming fans. You could feel your lips pulling into a smile before you shake the Derek’s extended hand.

“I’m Y/n.” you tell him before pulling away as you are ushered into the main lobby. You caught the look on Derek’s face before you had to leave, it was a look of both amusement and shock. You wondered if it he was a fan as well but then again he did look like he was enjoying a private joke with myself.

 “Welcome back!” Jimmy says exiting his office with a smile on his face. You grin walking over to him, Graham standing behind you constantly glancing behind him making sure everything was okay. “I love the gold pendant on the side.” he compliments and you chuckle hugging him quickly.

 “Thank you,” you smile before turning back to Graham watching him shove his hands in the pocket of his pants. “The others will come in when the show is done, you can wait with them.” you tell him politely and he nods turning on his heel disappearing around the corner. Graham had been your friend and body guard since you were sixteen, he was a father figure and your protector. Relaxing with him and his family was always a time well spent. You turn back to Jimmy watching him fix his tie. “So what is the plan? When do I come out and surprise him?”

“I don’t want it to look suspicious, I will talk with him about his new show and casually bring you up,” Jimmy explains and you nod hanging onto every word your head swimming with thoughts of how you would act meeting an actor who was a very big fan of your work. “Then I will bring you out.”

 “Okay, Is he here?” you place your hand on the handle that led into your dressing room which you were sure was swimming with people ready to make you look like the dictionary definition of perfection. Jimmy nods quickly before a notification ding comes through and he looks down at his phone.

“Right on time,” you heard the screams of fans before they faded out again and a giggle from down the hall before it came closer. You opened the door to your dressing room closing the door quickly just in time to hear Jimmy welcome the new actor. You glance up noticing Sarah your makeup artist staring at you with a quirked eyebrow. As she began to say your name you shush her before hearing Jimmy and the actors voice fade away.

“Sorry darling, I forgot you were here to surprise him.” she is quick to apologize and you laugh waving her off as you take a seat on the couch. “How was your weekend?”

“Stressful, I had a script reading with Natalia for our new movie.” you tell her rubbing the back of your neck still trying to calm your nerves from the crowds outside.

 “Isn’t that how you found out about Tom? From Natalia?” she questions setting her things down on the counter. You nod with a smile.

“You mean the Tom who apparently has a crush on me?” you question trying to keep the amusement out of your voice. Her eyebrows shoot up and her mouth falls open. 

 “You kidding?” A knock on the door silenced you both.

“Twenty minutes Y/n.” a man says and you feel your heart begin to pick up its pace as you glance at Sarah who was trying to comprehend what you had just told her.

 “I think you would be a cute couple.” she finally says and you laugh laying your head gently against the chair minding your now styled hair.

----

 Standing to the side of the curtain out of view of the crowd and Tom was surprisingly more nerve racking than meeting fans and going to premieres. You didn’t know whether he would adore your personality or hate it and that was what took you back to your first premiere nerves.

 “So you know Y/n?” you heard Jimmy say and the audience whooped making you chuckle turning away to face the crew backstage managing the microphones. You hear him laugh nervously.

“Well yes but no. She is an amazing actress.” you flush at the comment looking down at the heels you were wearing as you turn to face the band giving you knowing looks.

 “She is, I also heard you had a crush on her at one point.” the audience began laughing as Tom let out a breath.

 “Yes, It’s actually quite embarrassing really, when I was on the set of origin the wonderful and talented Natalia Tena-” the crowd cut him off with screams of excitement at the mention of her name. No doubt fans of hers because of Tonks. He laughs. “- She mentioned Y/n while filming because she was going to be on set with her in a matter of months. I only saw her in the films I had watched so I knew who she was right away when Nat mentioned her.” he explains and you hear Jimmy hum under his breath.

“Have you two ever met up while Natalia was filming?”

“No, never. I’m hoping one day to sit down with her and have a lovely chat.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she seems lovely.”

“Well today is your lucky day. Everyone give a big round of applause for Y/n L/n!!!” Jimmy taps his desk multiple times as you walk out feeling your heart pounding against your rib cage as people clap and cheer for you. You keep your gaze on them smiling excitedly as you wave at them before you look over at Tom who was standing from his seat clapping before he quickly jogged over to you holding out his hand to help you up the steps.

“Thank you,” you smile taking his hand staring up at him. He had his hair pulled back into a hair tie, some strands escaped his hair tie and he had them tucked behind his ear. His smile was contagious, you were beaming by the time you placed your hand in his. He wore tan pants that were rolled up his ankles, his palm tree ankle tat now display, a beautifully designed purple button up sweatshirt that covered a blue what looked like another designed shirt that was opened at the top exposing his chest if he moved in the right angle. To top it all off he wore a pair of pale pink shoes with small little dragons on the side.

 “You look wonderful.” he says and you squeeze his hand as you make your way up the two steps before letting go and greeting Jimmy again with a smile. Tom sits back down in his original seat as you take a seat next to him.

“Welcome back to the show Y/n.” Jimmy laughs as you cross your legs looking at the seat Tom is sitting in teasingly. “You alright?”

 “I’m fine!” you say in a pitch higher than your normal voice. “I like being...All the way over here.” you say looking away frowning. Jimmy laughs as Tom looks over at you concerned.

“Would you like to switch?” he questions and you laugh shaking your head meeting his concerned gaze. 

 “The show isn’t called Y/n.” Jimmy says and you and the crowd laugh.

“You really set me up for failure to not look cool at all Jimmy.” Tom says glancing over at you and you smile tapping his leg with the palm of your hand. Jimmy laughs before reaching under his desk.

“You were a gentlemen though, very sweet.” you tell him with an excited smile. Seeing him brought back the times when you sat in the living room binging Harry Potter. “Nothing like how I would imagine you to be.”

 “I hope that’s good.” he chuckles and you nod.

“We are going to play a game called my celebrity crushes through the years.”

_____

  You couldn’t help but laugh as you make your way back to your dressing room remembering the events that had played out during the game. It was the most fun you have had on the show but you didn’t miss the small glances from Tom.

 Graham walks up to you with a man behind him. The man that you saw when you first walked in.

 “Y/n, someone by the name of Derek is here to see you.” Graham says eyeing your expression carefully and you feel your lips tug into a smile watching your guard step out of the way.

“Hello Derek. What do I owe the pleasure?”

“Tom is my best friend and if I know him well -which I do-  he can be a bit much when he likes someone. I love him, I do but I’m sure as you saw with him on the show, he’s a person who loves to make cheeky comments and likes to be touchy-feely.” Derek explains before he exhales glancing over his shoulder. “He likes you, like really likes you. I don’t think I have ever saw him so happy when you were with him but that does come with many you may see as cons-”

“- Derek -”

“ - But he truly is one of the most loving guys, All i’m saying is just be careful because you could be one of those girls who like to take things slow and I don’t want him to offend you because sometimes he thinks with his -”

“- Derek!” you laugh in shock and he shrugs apologetically with a grin. “I don’t know what vibe I gave off but I am a big girl and can take care of myself. If I did want to sleep with Tom, I certainly wouldn’t mind the cheeky comments -”

“ - So you are saying he has a chance then?” 

“I’m terminating this conversation. If I do sleep with Tom anyways I’m sure you will the first to know.” you say turning to Graham who was hiding his smile. You wanted to slap his arm.

 “Listen, I will ask you this because I know he never will. Tom has an origin premiere tonight and still has his plus one available. You know Natalia and I am sure she will love to see you again.”

“If it’s so important why don’t you go?” you raise an eyebrow hearing Graham shift beside you when a steel door opens.

“Because I have decorating to do with my new flat.” Derek says crossing his arms and Graham snorts beside you making the man standing in front of you smirk.

“Right, stop trying to play cupid Derek.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Did it ever occur to you I could be dating someone and you are trying to set me up with your friend?”

“Your dating someone?”

“No.”

“Then why-”

“Because you, Derek, had not even asked me if I was single and if I was interested in your friend. That’s a good way to get yourself yelled at.”

“Okay.” he says standing up straight fixing his hat. “Are you single?”

“Yes.”

“Are you interested in Tom?” you swallow hard at the question before chuckling.

“Hard question. I will get back to you in five to seven business days.” you say trying to calm your heart that was now hammering against your rib cage. You try to laugh it off but the question was now stuck in your head.

‘Are you interested in Tom?’

 Were you interested? yes, very much so but it wasn’t that simple.

“It’s a simple yes or no. If you are interested in him then go to the premiere if you aren’t then tell it to him straight don’t give him false hopes and lead him on. Someone has already done that to him and he ended up heart broken I don’t want to see him like that again surely you can understand that?” Just as you were about to answer that very familiar laugh made you spin on your heel Graham standing at your side his shoulders squared back and his jaw set.

 “Y/n, your still here?” Tom smiles his purple sweatshirt resting on his arm his button up shirt on full display, a few more buttons were popped exposing his sunkissed chest underneath the multi colored shirt. You felt your mouth dry as you finally meet his gaze, he was smiling excitedly.

“I was talking with your friend Derek. He speaks highly of you.” his gaze snaps to his friends over your shoulder and his eyes narrow as if he was silently conveying a message. “I heard you have a premiere tonight.” you say suddenly feeling very shy.

“Yes, it’s just a silly little thing.” he laughs and you feel your heart pounding against your rib cage as you wet your lips with your tongue. “Would you... Like to tag along?”

“Yeah, I would love to.” He smirks extending his hand and you place yours in it hesitantly.

What a night this was going to be.

[thewayshedreamed]

Secrets Don’t Make Friends— Feysand AU

Prompt submission by Nonnie— Reverse fake dating au where everyone thinks you’re dating and you’re keeping it a secret, but you’re not.

Thank you to whoever sent this one in! I had an idea for Nessian, so I may post that one as well if y’all are interested! 

——————————————————————————

It was another beautiful day in Velaris, and Feyre couldn't seem to focus on her newest project assignment for anything. She found herself gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the Sidra's soothing flow and mentally mixing her various paints to capture the unique color.

Unfortunately, her firm's newest client didn't care much for river paintings since they were paying for a full digital marketing overhaul. Truth be told, she didn’t hate her job as a creative director for the largest marketing firm in Velaris. It allowed her a steady income, let her flex her creativity to some capacity, and definitely kept her on her toes. She had started as a design team member with the firm several years ago upon graduating from Prythian U, and after several largely successful projects, she started to gain more responsibilities within the team. Once her team’s creative director, Amarantha, had moved on to another firm, Feyre had been promoted to her position.

She turned back to her computer screen, willing the motivation to hit her. Any moment now.

This was a typical pattern for her. Initiating a new project was always the hardest part, but once she got started, she tumbled down the proverbial rabbit hole. She just had to... start.

“Ughh,” Feyre lamented. “I wish I was halfway through this proposal already. I’m way better at that point in the project.”

”You are pretty worthless right now,” Lucien joked. Feyre offered a vulgar gesture in return, earning a hearty laugh from her friend.

Lucien left the marketing side of the firm about a year ago, itching for a different opportunity that would allow him to express himself more freely. He felt stifled by the business side of things; the numbers, the politics, the marketing director he worked under. Tamlin hadn’t been the absolute worst to him, but his leadership style didn’t align well with Lucien for the long-term. He had ended up as a member of Feyre’s team and seemed to fill a void they weren’t aware they had.

“I can’t be that mad at you, to be honest. You’re not wrong,” she replied. “Maybe I need caffeine to get out of the post-lunch slump.”

”Someone say caffeine?”

Rhysand Vila approached, perching on the corner of Feyre’s desk. He was wearing dark khaki slacks with a black button down, rolled up to the elbows. At some point, he had ditched his tie in favor of an open neckline, likely free of meetings for the rest of the day. His casual appearance didn’t readily identify him as one of the firm’s most successful marketing directors, but his authenticity was one of the things that extended his influence the most.

Rhysand’s marketing team often collaborated with Feyre’s creative one, and they managed to create some of the most well-balanced projects within the firm. They worked so flawlessly together that they were starting to become almost exclusively paired, much to the chagrin of some of the other teams. Not only were their proposals solid, their presentations were engaging and convincing. Their perspectives on the projects, combined with their mutual respect of the other’s contributions, presented a solid, united front that built trust with their clients.

Through long work hours and multiple business trips across Prythian, Rhysand had become one of Feyre’s dear friends. When they’d originally started working together, his cockiness had grated her nerves to the nth degree, but she realized over time that it was mostly in jest. In truth, Rhysand was kind-hearted, cared deeply for the people in his life, and an incredibly supportive partner on client projects.

They’d fallen into a comfortable kind of friendship, and they’d only gotten closer with time. He’d confided in her about the toxic relationship he and Amarantha had foolishly found themselves in, and he’d listened to her never-ending rants about her brief coupling with Tamlin, nothing but understanding all over his face.

“I think a coffee run is a necessity,” Feyre said, playfulness dancing across her features.

“I left my wallet in my desk. I’ll go grab it. Meet you at the elevator?” Rhysand asked as he walked backward toward his office.

“Sounds good!” she replied. She turned to Lucien. “You coming?”

He had an odd look on his face, smirk included. She gave him a questioning look, and he let out a low chuckle. “Nah. But if I give you my card, will you grab something for me?”

”Why wouldn’t you just come? I’m not your coffee bitch, Vanserra.” That earned a full laugh.

”And I would never assume you to be. If I’m going to take a break, I don’t feel like being third wheel, is all.” The confused look returned to her face, and he continued. “Feyre, stop. It’s not my company either of you want on this little coffee date. You and Rhysand can go about your charade with anyone else, but you’re not getting that shit by me. It’s fine— you two are great together. I just can’t figure out why you insist on the secret.”

Feyre’s expression morphed into a stunned one, and it took her a few seconds to decide on a response. She and Rhysand had never crossed any lines beyond platonic, so all of this was news to her.

”Luce, I’m not sure who your source was for that little nugget of info, but don’t trust them with anything incredibly important in the future. They’re way off,” she assured him. “Text me your coffee order.”

She made her way to the elevator, finding Rhysand propped against the wall on his shoulder. He was scrolling through his phone, stray black hair falling across his brow, looking as if he couldn’t be bothered by the work day. Once the elevator made it to their floor, they stepped inside and found themselves sharing with Morrigan Reina. She was head of Human Resources, absolutely stunning, and Rhysand’s cousin. She had to admit, their genetic pool was quite impressive, all things considered. She was his opposite in every way with her brown eyes and blonde hair, but they shared immaculate bone structure and a certain elegance. Objectively speaking.

“Well, hi! This elevator ride just got way more fun. How’s is going, Rhysie? Fey?” Her dark eyes sparkled, dancing over Rhysand’s face. She raised her eyebrows at him slightly, silently communicating with him in that way only family can.

”Oh, come off it, Mor. We’re on a coffee run. Care to join?” Something in his tone seemed oddly like a challenge. She realized she hadn’t yet answered Morrigan but felt like a response of “Doing well” would seem out of context, since Rhys had already transitioned away from greetings. She deciding on standing there awkwardly, pretending not to feel incredibly intimidated by this woman in the elevator.

“So sweet of you, but I’ll have to take a rain check. This is my floor actually. Unfortunately, I have a termination meeting to attend. Have some for me!” She brushed her cheek against his in a mock kiss. “Good seeing you, Feyre!” She disappeared so quickly that Feyre started to doubt if she was ever there in the first place.

“Awfully prickly with your dear cousin this afternoon, Rhysie,” she teased.

”Well, dearest Mor can be quite the busy body and likes to think she knows all of my secrets.” He gave a small eye roll, but the smirk on his face gave his affection away.

“You have my attention. I think it’s only fair that I’m let in on this little secret.”

She swore the tops of his bronze ears turned slightly pink. “I assure you I’m not that interesting, Feyre Darling.”

As if on cue, the elevator chimed, and they were walking into their building’s lobby. The coffee shop was right next door, so they made their way there quickly. Within 10 minutes, they had their coffees in hand and were sharing an elevator with a small crowd on their way back to work. Feyre regretted that she wasn’t able to press Rhys for his secrets anymore but supposed it was for the best.

He took the long way to his office in order to drop her off at her desk. She set Lucien’s coffee down on his desk with just enough force to startle him out of his work, earning a laugh from Rhys. Lucien simply glared at her before mumbling his thanks and taking a long pull of coffee.

“Well, Feyre Darling, this is where I leave you.”

Lucien eyed her over his coffee lid, lowering it slowly as he paid full attention to their exchange.

Feyre chuckled, ignoring Lucien altogether. “Thanks for returning me safely. I fully intend on pulling at least one secret from you on the next trip, though. You’ve been warned.”

His violet eyes bore into hers, amusement all over his face. “Do your worst,” he replied, winking at her as he sipped his coffee and walked away.

——————————————————————————

Coffee seemed to be just the inspiration Feyre needed to hit her creative stride for the afternoon. She finally managed to land on a prospective theme for the new account, and she was busy making some rough sketches on her drawing tablet. A booming voice called out to her from down the hall, and she recognized it immediately as Tamlin. Of course he would recruit her attention once she was finally feeling productive.

“Feyre, could you come down as soon as you’re free? I’d like you to do a consult with Ianthe.”

She forced herself to refrain from rolling her eyes, trying her best to be diplomatic.

“Sure, Tamlin. Be there in a bit.”

He hesitated at his office door, poorly masking his impatience when she didn’t immediately jump out of her chair. Typical.

She was already annoyed at his loud declaration across the office that he was asking her to give feedback on another creative director’s work. She didn’t feel particularly protective over Ianthe. It was just poor form, and it set the tone for resentment with no true reason.

Finally, she stood and made her way to his office. He was in his office chair, Ianthe pointing to various items of interest on a flat screen mounted to the wall. She greeted Feyre politely, but it didn’t seem like she was all to keen on getting her feedback.

“What can I help with?” Feyre offered.

“I wanted to see what you thought about the account we’re working on. Considering that you’ve been monopolized by Vila for months, I thought I could at least get a brief consult,” he explained.

Feyre decided to mentally count how many underhanded comments she’d endure over the course of this meeting.

One.

”Sure. What’s up?”

Ianthe launched into the cliff notes of her project, Tamlin contributing nothing the entire time.

“I’m sure you’re probably swamped with whatever you’re working on Feyre, so I appreciate you taking time to look at what I’ve put together.” Ianthe seemed genuine enough. She wasn’t sure if she trusted her, but she felt bad for her all the same.

Before she could respond, Tamlin inserted himself. “Oh, she’s definitely seems busy. Just not sure how much of it is work-related.” Her head snapped toward him, eyes blazing. She steadied herself and turned her attention back to Ianthe to try and keep this meeting on track.

Two.

”Honestly, Ianthe, I think you have a great proposal overall. My only suggestion is that you consider a different color focus. Your primary color for the logo is red, and that happens to be the main color of their largest competitor’s logo as well,” she stated, ignoring Tamlin entirely.

He started to say something about her input, but she quickly interrupted him.

“How unfortunate that the person responsible for doing the relevant market research into any competitors didn’t think that to be relevant intel to bring to the project,” she finished, eyes gravitating back to Tamlin’s face.

”Good catch,” Ianthe said simply.

“It’s happened to me before, too. Don’t create too much additional work for yourself. Maybe see about pulling one of your coordinating colors forward instead, and see how that plays out. No need to reinvent the wheel.”

”I’m not sure how you’ve managed to convince Vila to do all that extra legwork on your behalf, but it sounds like you’re awfully convincing,” Tamlin seethed. He couldn’t help himself, it seemed.

Three.

It was quiet for several uncomfortable seconds. As if on cue, her savior himself appeared in Tamlin’s doorway, a friendly smile on his face just for her. He knocked with his knuckle as he glanced around the room.

“Sorry for interrupting. Feyre, could you stop by my office before you head out today? Nothing big. Our last account sent an email asking for some minor changes, and I wanted to get your input before I tell them anything,” he said.

“Of course, Rhys. I’ll be there in a second,” she replied. He gave her one of his dazzling smiles, that rogue strand of hair kissing his brow yet again. When he walked away, she immediately felt compelled to follow him, as if he took the light straight out of the room when he left.

“You may go, Ianthe,” Tamlin stated dryly. She quickly excused herself, repeating her thanks to Feyre on the way out.

“You realize you two are partners— she doesn’t work for you.”

“Our dynamic is hardly your business, Feyre.” He wasn’t exactly wrong, but she hated the way he spoke to people who worked with him. It had always bothered her.

“Says the guy who all but insinuated that I’m putting out to get Rhys to be a good partner on projects. You’re unbelievable.”

“All of the speculation that circulates around this office regarding you and Rhysand, and you’re caught on what I’ve said? Feyre, sweetie. I thought we were past this.”

”It seems as though the lot of you aren’t busy enough if you have all this time to discuss whether Rhys and I have some secret affair happening under your noses. Maybe if you put half that effort into your job duties, you’d be an almost decent partner to Ianthe,” she snapped.

“You shouldn’t concern yourself with me and Ianthe. We’ll work together in whatever way works for us. Plus, you basically belong to Rhys now, so you won’t have to worry over having to work with the likes of me.” The way he mockingly said Rhys’ name made her want to punch him in the throat.

She turned on her heel to leave, so angry that she didn’t trust herself to respond professionally. Once she got to the doorway, she found the words rolling off her tongue without a conscious thought.

“I ‘belong’ to no one. Your problem is that you see people as assets rather than building relationships. You should consider incorporating a little humanity into your leadership. You may find yourself a little less miserable to work for or be around. From now on, Ianthe can address me directly if she needs me. You, sir, can fuck off.”

——————————————————————————

Feyre made her way directly to Rhysand’s office, still fuming. She probably needed a quick break on the roof to clear her head, but it was already 4:30. She didn’t want to make Rhys stay late so that she could pout properly. Although, he’d probably do that for her if she asked.

She approached his door, knocking lightly when she saw he was on the phone. He waved her in as he finished his call. He let out a polite chuckle at whomever was on the line, and she wondered how even his contrived laughter sounded almost musical.

“Absolutely. I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow. Bye.” He placed the receiver of his office phone into the cradle and faced her fully.

“Hey there, Feyre Darling. Thanks for saving some time for me today. I hope I didn’t overstep, but I wasn’t sure when if I’d be able to catch you later.” He leaned back in his chair, propped his elbow on the arm rest, and cupped his large hand to run it over his face. So he was tired, too.

Feyre let out a low chuckle. “You’re my hero, basically. Your timing was absolutely perfect. Never hesitate to interrupt if Tamlin is the person I’m talking to.”

His bright, violet eyes seemed to linger on her face. “I wouldn’t mind hearing you laugh again,” he mused. “It’s become one of my favorite sounds, I think.”

She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face, and she found one mirrored on his own. She cleared her throat, unsure how to tame the butterflies she was experiencing at his words.

“Shall we?” She motioned to his computer, and he nodded. She pulled her chair to his desk so that she could see, but he forced her to switch with him, insisting she take control of moving through the project.

She wasn’t sure if she was reading way too much into the weird comments she had heard today about her and Rhys, but she was acutely aware of his thigh so close to hers. It was far enough that they weren’t flush, but she could feel the heat radiating off of him in the most distracting way.

He already had the project pulled up on the screen and asked her to move through the document to the place of the proposed changes. He reached across her slightly to point at something, and she was instantly immersed in his scent. She found it oddly comforting, if she was honest with herself.

“So what do you think? Is it a simple fix? Or would this be something beyond the originally contracted rate? If it’s going to take you some time, I think it’s appropriate that we negotiate an additional fee, especially considering we’ve just initiated another large account.”

”Mmm. It’s been a while. Mind if I play with it for a minute?” she asked.

”Yeah, for sure. Take your time,” he said, leaning back in his chair as she worked.

Several minutes passed in excruciating silence, causing Feyre to break out in nervous laughter.

“You can talk to me, you know. It’s eerily quiet in here,” she joked.

He huffed a laugh. ”Hmm, okay. Anything particularly interesting around the office today?”

She thought immediately of her conversations with Lucien and Tamlin, and she couldn’t help but include their interaction with Mor in the elevator on the list. It really was such a weird day.

She worked for a couple of seconds before she replied. “It was quite the day, to say the least. I learned a lot about myself via the grapevine.”

”You mean to tell me there’s gossip in this office?”

”This very one,” she replied through a laugh.

“This is the part where you tell me what’s been said about you, Darling.”

She big her bottom lip, nervous of how he would react. “Well, it’s not exclusive to me. It has to do with you, too.” Her eyes never left the computer screen as she spoke.

“I like how that looks,” he said in regard to her edits, jumping straight back into their original conversation. “Now you have to tell me, especially if I’m involved.”

He offered a small poke to her ribs, laughing at her jerking away from him and the glare it earned. “Spill, Archeron.”

Before she could chicken out, she described her interaction with Lucien prior to their coffee run. He went entirely still as she spoke, eyes trained on the screen. When she finished, he said, “I see. I bet Lucien thinks he’s quite clever, then... Oh wait, I like that better.” He pointed to a small change she made.

He seemed so indifferent, and despite her attempts to the contrary, it bothered her that he was acting so cavalier. She had to check herself, remembering how ridiculous she had found the comments only a handful of hours ago. It was certainly unfair to have expectations of him being that she had barely finished processing this afternoon’s events.

“Yeah, I guess he’s pretty proud of himself. I don’t know how much he believed me when I told him he was off-base, but time will tell, I guess.” She immediately launched into her interaction with Tamlin, outlining the full interaction for him.

His jaw was tense throughout the story, and she could see his shoulders tighten when she would share a particularly tasteless thing Tamlin said. They tended to stay out of each others’ ways, so sometimes it was easy to forget how much animosity existed between the two of them. She finished the entire story, and decided to wrap up everything in a brief summary.

”So yeah, according to Lucien and Tamlin, you and I are hiding a super secret little office affair. But apparently we’re really bad at it, because everyone knows.” She let out a long breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding. His response was swift.

“Well, that’s fucking ridiculous.” He stated, so matter of fact. “Go back to that one really quick— if you don’t mind.” His eyes never left the screen. All business, all of a sudden.

Okay. Now, his indifference stung. She thought she knew Rhysand well enough that he would cushion the blow better than this if he were totally shooting her down. She didn’t like how detached he was, and come to think of it, it’s not like she had offered herself to him anyway. For all he knew, she could find the idea of them dating totally repulsive.

“You could do a lot worse for yourself, you know,” she said, anger bubbling to the service. She saw his head snap toward her, but she refused to look at him.

”What?”

”I know you could walk out of this office and take your pick, but you could do worse for yourself than me. It can’t be that ‘fucking ridiculous’.” She clenched her jaw to force herself to stop talking and breathe.

He sat there looking at her, his attention to the project entirely derailed.

“Feyre...” he started.

”It’s late. I’ll finish looking at this tomorrow. Could you save the changes and upload to the cloud? I think I can make quick work of it.”

”Would you look at me, please?”

She let go of the computer mouse and covered her face with both hands. She rubbed her face roughly as she spoke.

“I’m just tired, Rhysand. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Just forget I said anything. Really, I’m okay.” She didn’t want to see the pity in his face or listen to any explanations. She just needed to get out of there.

She felt one of his hands grip softly around the wrist closest to him as he turned the chair to get her to face him. She kept her face covered, leaning forward, and he had the nerve to laugh softly at her.

“You are such a stubborn, difficult woman sometimes, Feyre Darling.” He gripped her other wrist with his free hand and pulled her hands away from her face. She was too tired to fight him on it, so she let him. She fixed her gaze on his thighs, not entirely prepared for what his expression would show.

“Please look at me,” he whispered. She melted at the tone of his voice, imploring her to make eye contact, and raised her eyes to meet his.

He rubbed slow circles on the sensitive underside of her wrists as he spoke. “In no way, is the idea of me being with you ridiculous. What is so ridiculous to me, Darling, is the idea that I could ever be with you and delude myself into thinking I could keep it a secret,” he murmured, the sincerity in his expression overwhelming her. She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, readying himself to finish. “Cauldron, Feyre. If you ever let me love you... I wouldn’t have it in me to contain it.”

She was frozen in her chair, in total disbelief. Once she finally regained control of herself, she reached her hand up to smooth his hair back into place. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact.

“That piece of hair has been driving me insane all day long,” she whispered. She was closer now, so much closer to him than she had ever been. She dropped her hand back to her lap to find his again.

His eyes popped open, traveling across her face and landing on her full lips. She watched his tongue dart out of his mouth slightly to wet his own before she regained eye contact. She leaned forward a little more, his hand coming up to brush her hair behind her ear. He cupped her face, running his thumb across her cheek.

“Feyre?” It was barely a whisper, but it was everything.

She subtly nodded her head, and his lips were on hers. He was slow, near reverent as he kissed her, and she leaned in to him, craving more contact. He slid his hand a little farther back so that his fingers could find their home in her hair, just behind her ear. She braced her hand on his forearm, and he pulled her face into his, only slightly, to deepen the kiss.

She let out a quiet whimper as Rhys angled himself to better capture her mouth, and just like that, she was gone. She no longer registered that they were in Rhys’ office or that his door was still open from when she arrived. As far as she was concerned, the world began and ended with them.

They both missed the quick footsteps as Lucien passed by on his way back to his desk from a meeting. They were entirely unaware of his halt as he realized what he’d witnessed and his prompt back peddling. It was when they heard his quiet rasp that they startled, breaking apart only millimeters.

”I fucking knew it!” he whisper-screamed, obviously pleased with himself.

True to Rhysand’s nature, he seemed totally unfazed by Lucien’s discovering them. He brushed his nose over Feyre’s, a grin spreading across his beautiful face.

”Fuck off, Lucien,” he crooned playfully.

His mouth was on hers yet again, neither of them noticing the soft click of the door as Lucien backed out of the office.

——————————————————————————

Just a bit of Feysand fluff for y’all! Feel free to keep the prompts coming, and let me know if you have a particular pairing or mood in mind ☺️

If you’d like to be added to my tag list, you can comment, shoot me an ask, or reblog! I’ll be happy to add you!

Tags (Masterlist):

@polireader // @justgiu12 // @hizqueen4life // @sis-it-dont-add-up // @b00kworm // @bookstantrash // @gisellefigue08​ // @maastrash​

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

C A L L  M E  C A T, chapter nine

January 2017

We had time off near the holidays, space for all of us was good. The rush of our record deal and newfound fame was suffocating in moments, exhilarating in others. 

Niall journeyed back to Ireland and Miles back up north to Massachusetts. Jules’ parents were only in Connecticut, and Harry had already made the trip back to the UK to see his family. 

By the time the New Year came, I was sick of being in Florida with no friends and minimal interaction from my parents. Our last night together as a band was the night of my drunken exit, something that we all knew was awkward and tense but didn’t dare to mention the next morning. 

Being around my parents made me drink less just because I feared becoming them. Which was probably good for both my liver and my mind, but bad for my emotional state. It had been a few weeks since I’d spoken to Miles or Harry. Jules would check in just to make sure I hadn’t murdered my parents yet, Niall sent pictures of his nephew and the pints he was drinking back home. 

I sat on the back patio a few days into 2017, sunglasses on to block the sun and hoping to get a bit of a glow on the unseasonably warm day. My phone buzzed beside me and pulled my attention back to the pool in front of me, my parents were both at work and I finally had a minute without them to gather my thoughts. 

Nothing about the sunshine state made me want to stay, especially not the locked door down the hall that had been untouched since 2011. The bed was likely unmade and I was sure dust had collected on the trophies that lined his shelves. 

I picked up my phone and read the message that had just come through, one that made me want to abandon my home state more than I already did. 

Harry Styles (1:03pm): Random question, are you still in Florida?

I looked around the backyard, boats buzzed by on the water and the waves glimmered in the sun.

Cat Fonder (1:04pm): Unfortunately

Harry Styles (1:04pm): Me too.

I pulled up the phone and read it twice before I pressed the phone icon near his name. It rang once before he answered. 

“Hi!”

“What are you doing in Florida?”

“Well--bit of an airline issue, so I ended up on a flight here instead of New York. I’m stuck here overnight.”

“That sucks,” I admitted, turning on my side on the pool lounge chair. “What are you going to do?”

“Well,” he took a pause, but I could tell he’d already decided. “You’re going to come get me at the airport.”

“What makes you think that?”

He laughed on the other end of the phone. “I mean, you wouldn’t let me sleep overnight in the Miami airport would you?” I let out a groan for him to hear, laughed a little when he threw in: “I know you have enough bedrooms at your parents house.”

Marta, our longtime housekeeper and an adopted member of our family, slid open the door to the living room. “Do you want lunch?”

“In a few!” I called back to her. “Harry--you can Uber here if you want.”

“Oh just come pick me up--how far do you live from the airport?”

“From Miami? Like an hour and a half!”

“Which is exactly why I’m not paying for an Uber, Catherine.”

I exhaled through my nose, licked at my lips, already regretting the decision to take one of my dad’s cars into a Miami afternoon. The air was sticky and the climb in my heartbeat made me feel stupid and childish. Harry’s chastising on the other end didn’t help. 

“Did you hang up on me? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Cause I’m trying to think of a plan to be in a car with you and not kill you.”

He let out a belly laugh at this, noise from the busy airport terminal was seeping through the speaker and into my ears. “I’ll make sure we don’t lay any hands on each other.”

Goosebumps rose on my skin, his voice almost melodic when he said see you soon!

I grabbed the keys and took a sandwich for the road from Marta, prayed to some type of higher power that I didn’t rear end someone or fuck up my dad’s Mercedes. He drove the Tesla to work, which was good, honestly, because I wouldn’t even know how to turn that one on. 

It took me only an hour and fifteen, which didn’t seem like a result of my timid driving but more the lack of traffic and time of day. When I rolled up to the baggage claim and saw him standing on the curb with sunglasses pushed up and a hood over his head, I rolled the window down. 

“How’s the disguise working?”

He made a face at me, stuffed his suitcase in the backseat and climbed in front. “You joke, but there were girls who literally cried when they saw me. And a few photographers, I think--which is really weird.”

“Really?” I looked over my shoulder and put on my blinker, hoping to merge effortlessly over three lanes to get out of the hellhole that was Miami International. 

“Yeah--don’t know why but people apparently like our band in Florida. Hometown pride, maybe.”

He had a point--apparently my name had been one of the most searched google phrases in the state at the end of 2016. But we weren’t really paparazzi level yet, once or twice in New York or LA when we’d do shows, but they’d yet to really follow us around.

“Okay, well you might have to be silent the rest of the ride if you want to get to Palm Beach in one piece.”

He turned towards me with an amused look. “Do you suck at driving?”

“No,” I said, looking over at him quickly, a car merged in front of me and made me swerve to the side a little bit when I took my eyes off the road. 

“Jesus fuck!” He laughed, “oh god--you would be absolutely rubbish at driving. This is actually extremely on brand for you.”

“I’m not rubbish at driving,” I twisted my face. “I’m just out of practice.”

We made it four miles away from the airport before he demanded that I get out and let him drive, arguing that even if the steering wheel was on the other side and we drove on the wrong side of the road, he’d be a safer bet. 

He got a coffee at a gas station and took a picture of me with the girl behind the register, more pleasant than I’d ever seen him be. He put the windows down and played me the songs he’d been listening to over the holidays and laughed when he pointed at my hands. “You got a manicure!”

I hid my face, embarrassed at the sellout I’d become. Thirteen whole days in town and my mother had convinced me to sit beside her, watch daytime talk shows while the spa ladies buffed and snipped our cuticles. 

She made me, I laughed. You might end up with one too before you leave.

We rolled up to Island Drive right before my parents got home from work and Harry leaned towards the window to get a better view of the house. His mouth hung open when we turned into the shrub-lined driveway. “Jesus, Cat. What do your parents do again?”

“Work too much,” I told him. “Mom’s a dentist and my dad’s a financial advisor. They’re super obnoxious so please try to interact with them at a minimum like Marta and I do.”

“Marta?”

“Housekeeper, my old nanny--she’s part of the family.”

He nodded, still taking in the fountain and manicured lawn when I pulled his suitcase from the backseat. Harry had known that my parents were wealthy--mainly from the time that Miles made me sound like an obnoxious rich kid when we wrote at their apartment. But Harry was apparently surprised by the level of wealth that was held in Palm Beach. His lips parted when I brought him in the front door, views of the water over the crest of the lawn and the pool, eyes landing on mine after a few seconds. 

“And you moved to New York, why?”

I kept my voice quiet, didn’t want Marta to hear my bluntness from the other room. “To get out of here.”

But soon she smiled and rushed over, eager to take Harry’s suitcase and bring it to the guest room. She offered him tea and coffee and all of the snacks that he joked he would have held out for if he knew she was here and waiting.

I brought him upstairs to show him the room he could sleep in, around the corner from mine, a view of the side yard and the gardens that a landscaping company tended to every Saturday morning. I laid the ground rules: no mentioning our partying, no mentioning times when I’ve been too drunk. If he wanted a free place to sleep with good food and a king-sized bed, he needed to keep his mouth shut about that stuff. 

He saluted me and stifled a laugh. “Yes ma’am.”

“I’m serious,” I told him. “Just be quiet, don’t give them a reason to ask you any questions.”

“Alright--I mean, come on, they can’t be that bad.”

As if on cue--as if Harry showing up in Florida wasn’t enough bad karma for one day--the alarm beeped downstairs letting me know one of them was home. Lorna first, she came in with big sunglasses and greeted Harry with a smile, her hand outstretched for her afternoon glass of Chardonnay before Marta could even hang her keys up by the door. 

Frank strolled in a little after six pm, dinner was almost ready when Harry excused himself to the bathroom and I took it as my opportunity to corner my mother before she was too drunk to remember it. 

I knocked on her office door twice, waited for her to look up from her computer before I took a few steps inside. “Hi, dear,” she said, a small smile before she looked back to the papers on her desk. 

“Hi--I just wanted to uh, ask you a favor, actually.” I approached her with my hands on my hips, unsure if I’d get her full attention or if I’d have to snap my fingers to get her eyes back on me. I sat down in the chair across from her, a formal chess move to let her know I was serious.

“What’s that?” She leaned back in her chair and waited for me to spit it out. Her direct eye contact made me nervous, I stammered over my words and tried to sway her by bringing my dad into it. 

“I, uh, just asked dad the same thing--he said it was fine.”

“Just spit it out, Catherine.”

“Can we not talk about Cameron in front of Harry?”

She set down her glasses at this, watched me for a second before she tilted her head to the side. “Okay.”

“Like, at all. Okay? Not even once.”

She sighed, almost as if my request was painful for her to consider. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

Maybe she’d tone it down with a stranger in the house. Maybe not talking about Cameron for someone else’s benefit would make her respect the limit more than she had in the past. 

I had hoped for so long that one day it’d stop, one day she’d forget his name or leave it out of conversation even if just for my sake. But my mother was too selfish for that--always forgetting that while she was grieving a son, I was grieving my other half. 

I should have known she couldn’t help herself--she had to relive the moment over and over, desperate to keep herself alive in the past as if it was safer than the present. His name slipped  out of her mouth like she didn’t even realize it, I nearly choked on my asparagus at the dinner table when she said it.

Harry was busy making small talk about our upcoming album, the studio sessions we’d be heading into once we flew back to the city. “Our manager said it’ll be good timing to release an album, makes us eligible for award season the following year.”

She pretended to be interested, pretended to care for a second about our careers, but then she did it. “Reminds me of the time Cameron won that award--”

“Mom,” I said it quick, my hands falling to the table with a thud, fork and knife in my grasp when I cut her off. “Don’t.”

The noise startled Harry, but the genuine smile on his face only faltered a little. “No, I’d love to hear the story,” he didn’t even have a clue to the fire he was igniting.

“We talked about it mom,” I gave her a death glare--which I could tell threw her off. She was frozen, torn between pleasing her dinner guest and pissing off her daughter, two of her favorite past times. 

She gestured at Harry. “Well I don’t want to be rude, Catherine.”

“Dad,” I looked over to see him on his phone, my voice pleading for him to intervene. 

“Lorna, leave it alone,” he said, disinterested, phone screen still lit up like he was begging for a distraction. 

“Oh,” she sighed, sarcasm threaded in her words. “Right--we don’t go there.”

Harry was across from me, mid-bite of his steak. He looked from me and to my mom, then back, while he chewed. He had no clue what was happening but he could tell he’d said the wrong thing. 

My mom picked up her wine glass, brought it to her lips and offered a sweet smile in Harry’s direction. “Nevermind, dear--don’t want to upset Catherine.” 

I rolled my eyes and stood from the table, “Harry, do you want to go for a walk?” 

He was caught off guard, still uncomfortably in the middle when he nodded quickly, stood from the table and thanked both of my parents for letting him stay the night as I headed for the front door. He hurried out behind me, his voice barely a whisper in the hallway. “Did I do that? Did I fuck up?”

“No,” I said, calling to Marta over my shoulder. “Dinner was delicious, Marta! We’ll be back!”

“What even happened in there?” He asked, still a few steps behind me once we walked out onto the moonlit driveway. 

I stopped short and turned around, the anger in my chest was threatening to spill out and onto the concrete. “Nothing--my mother is just fucking stupid and selfish.”

“So the intimidating level of rage coming off of you is not my fault?”

“What? No.”

I spun around again and headed for the street, a left turn towards the familiar route that I’d escape to when something like this happened. He walked beside me on the tree-line street, silent and steady until the neighborhood opened up. The same empty field at the end of the road that gave access to the lagoon, the same location I’d come to so many times after storming away from dinner as a kid. Doing it at 22 felt no different than at 15.

He shoved his hands in his pockets when we stepped onto the grass. “What is this place?”

“I don’t know--an empty field at the end of my street.”

“Is this your ponder spot?”

I looked over my shoulder, his face was lit up by the glow of the streetlights. “Ponder spot?”

He nodded and offered a shrug, “you know, the place you run off to when you need space.”

I bit back a laugh, embarrassed that his words couldn’t have been more accurate. He took my silence as confirmation, followed me over to a picnic table that sat close to the end of the water.

I threw a leg over the bench and let my head rest on top, a groan escaping my lips once I felt his weight shift the structure. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head but didn’t lift it, so he let me sit in silence for a little while. A breeze blew my hair around and after a few minutes, he sighed, like he already knew the answer but wanted to ask anyway. “Do you want to tell me who Cameron is?”

That got me to raise my head. “Definitely not.”

He smirked a little, a tiny nod as if to tell me he wouldn’t push it. He reached a hand over and patted my thigh, chin in his hand as he watched people cruise by on their boats. 

For the first time I felt comfortable with him--not pressured or panicked. He brought his eyes over to me and then fished into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a small joint, a dimple appeared on his cheek when he said: “I found this in the guest room.”

“Shut up,” I laughed, pulling it from him and sniffing it to inspect. “Did you really?”

He nodded, “which one of your parents is the stoner?”

“Well my mom is too high strung, so--must be Frank.”

He pulled out a lighter and held it up, watched when I placed it between my lips and then inhaled. I passed it over to him, thankful for a buffer between us now aside from the moon and the breeze. 

Smoke escaped my lips and floated towards the stars, he drummed his fingers on the table before I passed it to him. “Do you feel overwhelmed ever?”

“Ever?” He laughed at my question, licked his lips and then looked out over the water. 

“I mean by the music stuff lately.”

He shrugged. “Excited mostly. Why? Do you?”

I nodded, unafraid to admit that being home brought a different layer of complexity to life. “My parents will just never get it.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not successful.”

I looked down at the faded wood and the fresh coat of polish on my nails. “It kind of feels that way, though--you know, if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, did it really happen?”

He stared at me for a second, sure that I was joking. “You’re mental,” he said. “The tree is down on the ground, of course it fell. Who fucking cares if they were around to hear it or not?”

I nodded, took the joint back from him and took another inhale, reminded of the first time we did this type of thing. 

He passed it to me, watched as I let smoke dance through the chilly air before he asked: “Why do you go by Cat?”

Another shrug, how I answered most questions these days. Do you have nightmares about it? Do you think about him all the time? Do you feel easily agitated? 

“Just don’t like Catherine. Too formal.”

I didn’t want to get into it. My mother calls me that, my brother called me that, all good reasons to pack up and leave behind in the childhood bedroom that held bad memories.

“I like Catherine,” he admitted. “S’pretty.”

I let my eyes sweep over to him, the moon reflected in his eyes, curls of hair poked out from the beanie on his head. “Just--don’t call me that, please.”

He laughed, completely unaware of the way it made my chest heave in the shower or the way it sent a shiver down my spine when my mom had to cut herself off--Catherine and Cameron--no, just Catherine. 

I had to correct her now too. Catherine felt like it needed to be followed by something, another name, the one that had been linked to mine since birth, born two minutes apart. 

“I think you’re pretty fucking successful, you know.”

I glanced over at him. “Yeah?”

A single nod. His short hair was still something to get used to, it bent in the wind and blocked his eyes when he turned to look at me. “I will never admit I said this, but, we’d be nothing without you.”

“Well, we only got big once you came along.”

He smirked, “so you’re aware of that?”

I gave him a shove, shaking my head at his stupid ego. His eyes lingered on mine for a second, his knee knocked against mine when he flicked the joint and then he let out a sigh. 

I wanted to lean in and kiss him, and I probably would have if it weren’t for Lila. As far as I knew she was home in New York, maybe in Jersey with her parents or siblings, but certainly an obstacle to whatever kind of intoxicated hook up could have happened between us.

I cleared my throat and looked up at the sky. “Do you want to go write a song?”

He smiled, a soft one, nodded a few times and patted me on the thigh again before he stood up and offered me a hand. “I’d love to.”

He followed me back to the house, up the stairs to my bedroom and stared at the ceiling while I plucked at the guitar. 

I don’t know where I wanna go,

But it’s far away from here

Don’t know what I’m running from

If it’s you or me, my dear

He watched, listened, nodded along while it poured out of me, more of a witness than a participant. 

It’s good, Cat, he said, keep going.

Everybody’s talking now

But no one seems to say  a thing

I do my best to drown them out

I just wish that I could be

Somewhere far away from here

Back to myself, back where I could see clear

Somewhere far away from here

Won’t somebody take me far away from here?

Sleep was heavy on my eyelids, Harry down the hall and a rough version already sent off in an email to Niall before I realized he’d said it. Four and a half years of begging him to say it, call me Cat, hoping one day he’d just give in and go along with it. All this time I thought fighting him and pushing him away would make it happen. 

It was fitting, I guess, that it was the exact opposite that finally got me what I wanted. 

**

Niall was excited that Harry had accidentally landed himself in Miami, and he was even more excited when he learned that I told him he could stay with me an extra few days before I was due to return to Manhattan and the responsibilities of work. 

He was eager to see my town, made me drive him by the high school and the parking lot where I learned--or failed, according to him--to parallel park. He swam in the pool and spit water in my face, completely deconstructing the wall I had managed to build over the last few years with a single glance in my direction. 

He promised he stayed because he was having fun, not just because flying home with me meant a first class seat.

It was rare, these days, too, that I found myself on a boat. A few times since the accident, maybe three or four. But his excitement and delight was contagious when he learned my parents still had one--the same one--and it was down on a dock off the backyard. 

I let the motor hum to life, pinks and purples splashed over the sky on our last night when he popped a bottle of champagne. I wondered if Lila knew he was here--he seemed undisturbed by his phone and altogether disconnected and unplugged. 

I drove us out to the middle of the lagoon, dropped anchor and told him about the time I learned to swim off the back. I was three or four, always in a life vest and completely unaware of the irony that my life was accumulating. 

Cam would jump off first, his floaties on his arms as he swam over to my dad who’d be in the water already. My mom would clap and snap pictures, throw us a noodle or two and then wrap us in towels back on board the boat. 

Harry was treading water beside me, though, hair dripping wet after he’d pulled off his shirt and shorts. 

I laughed when he dared me to jump in after him, said he hoped my swimming skills were better than they were back then. He splashed enough water at me on the boat before I gave in, promised he wouldn’t watch me undress and wouldn’t tell a soul that we’d been this cliché, swimming in our underwear and conversation laced with champagne giggles. So I tossed my shirt to the side and shimmied out of my shorts before I let myself sink under the surface. 

When I came up, he was watching me. 

“What?”

“Nothing--just--s’been nice to hang out with you.”

I twisted my face at his kindness, crinkled my nose at the friendship that had suddenly blossomed in the cool Florida weather.

The laughter from another boat floated over the waves, a big splash is what did it. 

I looked over, searched for the person only a hundred yards away, desperate for their head to emerge from the water, unlike his. My heartbeat was in my ears, throat tight and shoulders tense.

“Where are they?” I asked, my head turning frantically. “Do you see them? Did they come up?”

“What?” Harry followed my gaze and the smile faded from his lips. “What are you talking about?”

A man popped back up, a group of people on the boat cheered for him and sang along the music that hummed from their speakers. Harry could tell something was wrong, I tried my best to slow my breathing when I realized what was happening.

I swam over to the boat, hands clutching the ladder as I pulled myself up. My breathing was sporadic, the images flashing through my head with no option to pause. Allie’s voice, Will’s voice, the feeling in my chest when I knew he was dead and we couldn’t do anything about it. 

But I was acutely aware of the moment around me, Harry climbed up to the boat behind me and had a terrified look on his face, green eyes searching the floor for a towel before he draped it over my shoulders. 

“You’re alright--Cat, you’re alright, it’s okay,” his arms were around me when a sob slipped out, eyes stung from a mix of salt water and tears. I couldn’t do this, it couldn’t happen here and now. 

The waves from that day couldn’t show up, drag me under until I couldn’t breathe like he couldn’t. Not in front of Harry. 

“Hey,” he said, moving my shoulders to force me to sit down, his knees across from mine when he looked me in the eyes. “You’re alright, nothing’s happening.”

I nodded, licked at my lips and wiped at my eyes with the towel when I blinked a few times. Feet on the boat, hands around the towel, I could see blue and white and the keys in the ignition. “Okay,” I said, more grounded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, hands on my knees now to keep them from shaking. 

Silence for a minute when I looked back at the other boat. They were fine. No one was drowning. I wasn’t drowning. I was on the boat and Harry was on the boat. 

The sun had sunk lower now, almost meeting the horizon when I met his eyes again.

“When did he die?”

“What?”

“Your brother.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He plucked at his lower lip, he dropped my gaze for a second and then sighed. “It’s okay, Cat.”

I felt the water in my eyes at that, let my head swivel side to side to argue his claim. “No,” I said. “It’s not okay. This is why I don’t talk about it.”

“Maybe that’s why this is happening, then. Maybe you get like this because you refuse to talk about it.”

I pulled away from him, angry at his accusation and the way he sounded like he knew me better than he did. 

“Unless the two ten-year-olds in the frame above the guest bath are just random people,” he shrugged. “That’s Cameron, right?”

I was caught--unsure where to go and stuck on a boat with him. I didn’t look at him, kept my eyes on the floor and nodded slowly. 

He repeated his original question. “When did he die?”

“The summer before senior year of high school. He drowned.”

A breath of air escaped from his lips, like he’d expected a different answer. Cancer, maybe. A terminal illness or something less violent and avoidable. 

“Were you--with him when it happened?”

I wiped at my eyes, wishing the tears would stop and the memories would, too. “In the boat--we were drunk.”

He nodded, his focus solely on me when he leaned forward. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“You weren’t there,” I said quickly, defensively. “You have no clue what happened.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t. But I know it’s not your fault.”

I cried harder at that, vision blurred when I nodded. “It was, Harry--I didn’t realize how long he’d been underwater. I was too drunk.”

“It’s called an accident for a reason.”

“You’re not supposed to know any of this,” I reminded, eyeing him skeptically when I pulled the towel up to cover myself more. “Niall doesn’t know. Miles doesn’t know. No one knows.”

“Does Jules?”

I nodded. “Cause I’m a fucking moron and got too drunk one night.”

He laughed a little. “Why’ve you been hiding it?”

“Cause college was the first time I was just me. Not Catherine and Cameron, not one of two. I was just me for the first time and it was okay--it wasn’t sad or tragic that I was just me. I wanted it to be normal.”

He nodded in understanding, offered to drive us back to the dock if I showed him how. My parents were upstairs for the night, enough space for us to sit at the counter and heat up leftovers that Marta had made while we were out. He listened when I talked about the nightmares and the flashbacks, followed me up the stairs and nodded solemnly when I made him promise to not tell the others. 

He echoed his sentiment on the boat: it’s not your fault. He brushed a piece of hair behind my ear before he leaned in and kissed me outside my bedroom door, softer than before, and most importantly, sober. 

He followed me over to the bed, his touch gentle and warm when we slipped under the sheets. It was easy--slow and careful, not like the time before. He made me feel grounded, actually in the moment for the first time in a long time. He didn’t know it, but he made me feel seen.

Something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

It felt different to wake up beside him, knowing he knew and knowing he still thought I was a decent human. I looked over to see him, eyelids fluttered against his cheek when I stirred. 

A buzzing on the nightstand grabbed my attention, though, his phone vibrating with an incoming call when the morning sun crept in. A stomach dropping worse than ever, a shiver down my spine when I saw her name, a picture of the two of them side by side. 

Incoming call: Lila DiPretto

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author’s note: wowowowowowoooooww! A doozy of a chapter I hope none of you hate me too much for all of the emotion in this one! Things are heating up and now Harry knows Cat’s secret.....shit can only get weirder from here!

taglist: @mellamolayla @meganlikesfandoms @afterstylesmadeit @sing-me-a-song-harry @harryinsweatersandbandanas @stylesfics-xx @shawnsblue @avipshamitra @a-secretyoucankeep @groovybaybee @nearbyou @blueviiolence @kiwicherryharry @thurhomish @bopbopstyles @live-at-the-forum @ajayque @mleestiles @ashbabao @anssu-amry @odetostep @bemib @caritocp @ursogoldenshan @rainbowbutterflyboy @bubblegumstyles7 @1142590m @winter-soldier-007 @beingsolonely​ @sloanferg​ @ivanacats​ @mumplans​ @wastedsweetcreature​ @harryssugarhigh​ @wanderlustiing​ @sunflowers-styles​ @g0bl1nqueen​ @stepping-into-the-light​ @kara-246 @stilljosiegrossie​ @harrys-cherrry​

[sunsetinmyvein]

I Know That I’ll Lose - Chapter Eleven - Might Stop (Me) You Bein’ Miserable

Her flight arrived at close to midnight a few days after they had chatted on the phone. Despite his usual hatred of airports, Matty felt like going to one this time was going to be worth it a lot more than all of those other times that he had been forced to be in one. So, he drove himself down, threw a beanie over his messy hair, pushed his way through the crowd, and waited patiently at the arrivals terminal. He could feel the excitement bubbling away in his brain. The rough plan was to see how things went in the first couple of days, then if it went well to take her on a proper date and tell her then. George had helped him a bit with what would probably be the best plan of action, as his first suggestion of ‘why can’t I just tell her as soon as she steps off the plane’ probably wasn’t exactly suitable. As soon as he saw her step out of the gate, he couldn’t help the grin that split across his face. All of his worrying over the last two weeks melted away. He had forgotten how much of a visceral reaction she had over him.

It was safe to say that as much as she was expecting to see Matty at the gate this time, she wasn’t expecting him to half-run over and pick her up in a hug when she was three steps into the terminal. It was strange after how evasive he had seemed only two weeks ago to see him now so clingy and open with how excited he was about her being in London with him. Not that she was complaining, she was just curious as to what had changed. He also seemed oddly jovial being in a place that he usually hated. It was also strange to see how tired Matty looked in the airport. The bags under his eyes seemed to rival the weight of her luggage, and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a while.

“Are you doing all right?” She asked in concern after their initial greetings.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” He shot back over his shoulder as he ushered her back towards his car.

“You just…” It was hard for her to pinpoint what was off. He seemed entirely happy and like his usual self, but physically he looked run down. “You look like you’re pretty worn out.”

“I’ve never been better.” He grinned.

  On the way back to his place he talked about everything that had happened in the last couple of weeks, as well as everything that they were driving past (even though it wasn’t exactly easy to see these landmarks he was pointing out in the middle of the night) and also everything he was excited to show her while she was here. He didn’t get hyperactive like this super often, but it was endearing to see him so enthusiastic. They reached his front door, and she heard him take in a deep breath as he turned the key in the lock.

“This is my humble abode.” He stated proudly as he swung the door open. They took a few steps inside as she looked around.

“It doesn’t look very humble, Matty.” She noted, taking in the room. Everything was concrete. The floors, the walls, the ceilings, all of it. There were huge windows everywhere that she could only imagine let in a ridiculous amount of natural light during the day, the ceilings were very high with some exposed beams at the top, the decorating style was minimal but clearly to a certain refined and vintage sort of theme. “Minimalist maybe, but not humble.”

  As she stepped into the lounge room, the overwhelming smell of weed hit her nostrils. “Good lord, Matty. Are you trying to hotbox your house or something?”

He laughed loudly. “Sorry, I get used to it and forget other people aren’t.” He said as he opened a window. As the echo of pitter-pattering paws could be heard coming down the hallway, a massive smile found its way onto his face. “And this,” He started, turning in the direction of the sound. “is Allen!” He beamed as a large brown dog rounded the corner excitedly. After some love and praise from his owner, the bullmastiff came bounding up to her.

“How do you go about having a dog when you’re on tour all the time?” She questioned in between greeting the overzealous pooch.

“My mate Sam looks after him whenever I’m away. Which is most of the time, really.” He laughed honestly. “But it’s nice to be able to steal him back for a bit when I’m home.”

  Once Allen had calmed down about a new person being in the house, Matty continued his tour.  Despite that it definitely wasn’t a house she’d ever consider buying herself, objectively it was a very nice place. It was very… ‘Matty’, for lack of a better adjective. Eventually they arrived at his bedroom, which was literally just a bed, two small bedside tables and a guitar sitting in the corner. There was a slightly awkward pause in their tour as she was reminded of the bags in her hands.

“So… uh… where am I sleeping?” She asked hesitantly.

He gave a short chuckle. “Your room is down here.” He said as he motioned down the hall. The spare room looked much the same as his, just it didn’t have an ensuite attached. “It’s pretty late, so I’ll let you get settled and get some rest. Give me a shout if you need anything.” She nodded a bit as she hauled her bags into the room. “Oh, and,” He started, waiting until she turned back to him before he continued, “you know I always have an open-door policy in effect for you, love.” He added with a wink, only getting an eye roll in response. “G’night!”

  * * *

  In the light of day, his house was very bright and inviting. She had crashed pretty quickly after he left her to go to sleep, but was woken up at about eight once the sunlight started streaming in through the massive window opposite her bed. As she got up and padded around the house looking for her friend, she got a better look at the way he chose to surround himself when he was at home. The décor matched Matty to a tee, and it was nice to finally see things that he regularly mentioned like his favourite books and his vinyl. She was greeted by Allen first, before she finally found him sitting in his small courtyard, an open book sitting on his knee and a cup of tea in his hand. It reminded her of when she had been watching him in the studio a few weeks ago, he just seemed so peaceful and in his element. He glanced up as she approached the patio doorway.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t think you’d be up yet.” He smiled as he shut the book and put it on the table next to him. “I didn’t wanna wake you too early in case you were jetlagged.” He added as she took a seat next to him. The morning air was chilly, but sitting in the sun outside made it a lot more tolerable.

“Your house has too many windows for me to sleep in too much.” She chuckled. He nodded in understanding as he took a sip from his mug.

“I like it bright. Helps stop me from feeling overwhelmed about being cooped up and stuck inside when I’m at home for long periods.” He explained with a shrug.

  “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” She asked.

“I figured I could show you around a bit, and then I think the guys are wanting to come ‘round in the evening. They’re super keen to have you here, too.” He suggested, that eager smile returning that she had seen a lot last night. “Or if you weren’t up for that, we could just stay in and binge trashy TV shows.” He offered with a laugh.

“It’d be nice to see what Matthew Healy’s usual haunts are.” She replied.

He quirked an eyebrow at the use of his full name, but pressed on. “Sounds like a plan. If you wanna start getting ready, I’ll work out where we can hit up today.” He said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket to do some quick googling. It took a few minutes to find where the guest bathroom was located in his house given that pretty much every single room looked the same at first, and then quite a few more minutes to work out where the hell Matty kept any spare towels considering he had barely any cupboards anywhere, but eventually she was on the right track to being presentable after a long-haul flight. He’d stopped her before she’d gone to make herself any breakfast, suggesting they go to one particular location first that would tackle that issue for her.

  After locking up the house, they headed in the direction of stop number one. Everything about London was quite starkly different from anywhere else in the world that she had been. The architecture and history were fairly prominent everywhere you looked. It surprised her slightly that it was only after a couple of minutes walking that Matty motioned to a building, saying that this was where they had been heading. “I don’t drink a lot of it, but this is my favourite coffee shop.” He said as they stopped in front of a little hole-in-the-wall café. The only sign to alert someone that this place might serve hot beverages was a tiny plaque next to the doorway. “It’s a bit rubbish, really. But it’s quiet and I can get stuff done here if I’m not getting anythin’ done at home.” He shrugged with a laugh as he held the door open for her. It had a very homely feel inside. The lighting was warm and inviting, the shop smelled of fresh brewed coffee and baked goods, there was a couch by the door. It had all the signs of a good café. But he was right about it being quiet. There were only six tables in the narrow building and none of them were occupied. They sat down at the table furthest away from the door as she flipped through the simple menu that they had on offer. Once they worked out what they wanted from their limited options, they placed their orders - which were currently the only things being prepared and thus arrived at their table very quickly. Her growling stomach thoroughly approved of this.

  The food wasn’t bad at all, and the coffee itself was pretty damn good. Clearly Matty’s standards of a good coffee shop were a lot higher than her own. As they chipped away at their late breakfast, his overexcitable demeanour and sudden invitation for her to come out here played on Y/N/N’s mind. It felt like something had shifted. Not something major, but enough of a something to make Matty act slightly different than usual. And as much as Matty had said that he would see her soon whenever they’d finished up the tour, she knew full well that Matty said a lot of things he didn’t necessarily follow through with. So, she hadn’t really expected it to be this soon. Or at his house.

“How come you invited me out here?” She asked curiously as she took a sip of her coffee.

“Well, I’ve seen your place, it’s only fair you see mine.” He lied. This didn’t seem like the right time to blurt out ‘Hey, turns out I’ve actually been into you for a really fucking long time and just didn’t realise it. Surprise!’ He figured that could wait until later. “And it worked well with our downtime. I’d finished all the stuff I wanted to get done at home.” He added. At least that part wasn’t a lie. He couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t seem satisfied with that answer.

“Fair enough.” She nodded, deciding to drop it. For now, anyway.

“Are you enjoying it so far?” He asked, trying to keep his excitement about having her here from boiling over.

“I’ve been here for all of about nine hours, Matty.” She chuckled.

“Oh… Yes. That’s fair.” He said with a light laugh. 

  As soon as they had finished up, a waitress came over to clear away their dishes. She was surprised to see that no payment was exchanged before they left, until Matty explained that whenever he’s home, he just opens a tab with them and pays it off before he goes on tour again. “What’s next?” She asked.

“Allen’s favourite spot, c’mon.” He grinned, all but jumping out of his skin in excitement. They walked for about fifteen minutes before they approached a small, fenced in park. It wasn’t a huge amount of space, but for what it lacked in area it more than made up for in scenery. The dense foliage around the fence line made it seem a lot bigger than it actually was once you were inside, as it covered up the boundaries. There was a man-made creek in the middle of it that flowed from the higher side of the park down to the lower, with trees scattered along the edges. It had a couple of walking trails along the outside of the park that all met up in the middle, which had flower beds and benches intermittently placed along them. It was a very calming spot.

“This place is really beautiful.” She said in awe.

“I really love it. It’s so serene.” Matty chimed in, before being interrupted by a dog loudly barking on the other side of the park. “When there’s less dogs, anyway.” He added. “Allen loves to jump into that damn river and it’s so fucking muddy in there.” Matty laughed loudly. “Every time I take him here, I have to be prepared to bath him when we get home.” He said as he walked over to one of the benches and took a seat.

“Do you come here often without him?” She questioned.

“Sometimes.” He said with a shrug. “But I don’t often find the time to. Allen makes me find time.”

  They spent a bit of time in the park chatting. Matty mostly told stories of the many naughty things that Allen had done as a rebellious teenager in this park, which included hopping the fence numerous times. Their conversation pushed them through into the early afternoon.

“We probably have enough time for one more spot.” He said as he slid his phone back into his pocket after verifying the time.

“Sure, let’s get going then.” She grinned. So far, she was enjoying this short tour of Matty’s version of London. It felt like she was getting to know him a little better, and it was nice to feel like they were still close after how ignored she had felt at the tour after party. The last place on their list was back in the direction that they had originally come, but nearly half an hour’s walk away from the park. And she had to admit that when they got there, it was fairly underwhelming. “A studio? Really?” She asked with a roll of her eyes.

“It’s not on the list for the reasons you might think.” He challenged with a laugh as he unlocked the door and ushered her inside. It had a very similar layout to the studio that they had used while on tour, but she supposed designing something like this was probably a case of ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’ They walked through the building towards the back until they came to a staircase. After three flights, they finally reached a door. “You ready?” He asked as he started turning the doorknob, a look of childish glee on his features.

“I mean… I guess?” She was suddenly unsure about what she had agreed to. Ready for what?

  It turned out that the doorway lead through to the roof. From this spot, they had a pretty clear view across the city. She had to admit that it was just a tad impressive.

“If we’ve been here all day recording and end up going into the night, the view from up here is spectacular.” Matty explained with a nostalgic look in his eyes.

“I can only imagine.” She said with a nod, trying to take in the vast landscape.

“Coming up here also helps me clear my head if I’m stuck on something in the studio.” He continued. “It’s not quite as nice as the studios we’ve hired out in the countryside. Those are proper scenic. But this definitely gets the job done.” He finished with a chuckle. A few quiet minutes passed between them as they both took in the sights, before Matty’s constant need to fill the silence reared its head. “So?” He asked eventually, looking at her expectantly.

“What?” She asked back with a frown.

“Do my ‘usual haunts’ live up to the hype?” He elaborated, the morbid curiosity coming through in his voice.

“I guess they’re okay.” She shrugged, but the joking smile betrayed her nonchalance. “They’re really nice.” She admitted. “You seem to have some really good spots sorted out.”

A proud grin quickly found its way across his features. “You enjoyed your day, then?” He questioned.

“I would’ve enjoyed my day regardless of what we did.” She answered. For the first time, he was able to recognise the uncomfortable feeling in his chest at her comment and pin it down as not being a bad thing. Rather, it just spurred on his endless enthusiasm.

  Seeing Matty so open and vulnerable was starting to throw her a bit off balance. He was usually filled with a mix of arrogance, sarcasm, humour, suggestive comments and maybe just a little bit of honest emotion. But since she stepped off that plane it was a hell of a lot more of the latter compared to anything else. First, he invited her into his home, then he was constantly sincerely enthusiastic about her company, and now he was showing her his favourite spots in London. It wasn’t exactly a part of his usual demeanour around her to be so genuine. He’d said so himself that he liked that he didn’t have to be on his best behaviour in her company. As she stared out at the city laid before them, she had to wonder what the hell had happened to the Matty she spent the last six weeks with. She’d missed him like crazy over the last fortnight and now she was second-guessing if she really knew this man at all.

“I’d really like to show you more, if there was more time.” He added the last part of his sentence like it reminded him of something. The faraway look he got in his eyes when he said it made her want to ask him about it, but he kept talking before she got the chance. “But we’d better be getting back. The boys will be heading ‘round soon.” He huffed with purpose as he started heading back towards the door.

  They got back to his house shortly before the sun started setting. Which unfortunately didn’t leave them a huge amount of time between when they arrived and when the rest of the band were set to rock up. It wasn’t long at all before there was a knock at the door and Matty jumped up from the couch to answer it. When he came back, the crew were all together. It made her smile to see the four of them all in the same room again. The world felt a little bit more complete when they were together. But she didn’t have long to process that thought as she heard her name being called from every which direction by the three missing members of The 1975. They quickly poured into Matty’s lounge room and started wrapping her up in hugs.

“It’s only been a couple of weeks.” She pointed out, slightly surprised at how intense her welcome was turning out to be.

“Yeah, but it was weird not seeing you after seeing you every day for six weeks.” George said with a pout.

“There’s been nobody here to keep Matt in line. You have been sorely missed.” Ross laughed loudly.

“Hey, lay off.” Matty chuckled as he shoved the bassist’s shoulder playfully.

  Once a few quick greetings were given, and some money was exchanged between Ross, Adam and George for some reason, the alcohol and snacks were unloaded on Matty’s kitchen counter. Anyone would’ve assumed that they were throwing a party for two dozen people for how much stuff had been brought over. But Adam reassured her that they were very big on having options available. They decided that it would be a nice evening to sit outside in the courtyard and play cards, so once drinks were in hand, they all began making their way to the outdoor table. Matty and Y/N/N were the last to get their beverages, mostly because he just couldn’t decide what to pour. Eventually he settled on something worthy enough for his liver and made a drink, only to offer it to her first.

“Get drunk with me.” He said as he held the glass out to her.

“Sure, I’ll have a drink with you.” She shrugged as she reached out to take it. He pulled his hand back slightly.

“That’s not what I said.” He pointed out. She mulled over his words for a moment.

“You really want to get wasted on a Monday night?” She frowned with a light laugh.

“It’s not like we have any plans tomorrow.” He reasoned.

“I suppose…” She hummed thoughtfully, before deciding that there was really no reason not to. “All right, then.”

  After a few hours sat around Matty’s small outdoor table, their catch up was over and drinks were flowing nicely. A few drinking games had been played to try and keep everyone from feeling the bite in the air and to keep conversation alive. Y/N/N had passed the point of tipsy a little while ago, but the rest of the band still seemed a few steps behind her. Matty, true to his word of getting drunk together, was matching drink for drink but she supposed that maybe he just held his alcohol better than she did. The boys were playing some card game that she had long since lost interest in, so she had opted instead to watch something more interesting - Matty. She had rested her head across her arm on the table, partially to be able to stare at him uninterrupted, and also in part to try and help with the spinning in her brain. He had the stub of a joint sitting in between his fingers as he idly stared at the cards in his hand. Every now and again he took a drag on it and blew the smoke upwards, trying occasionally to make rings above him. He would watch them dissipate into the night sky before attempting again. His hair was half falling into his face despite his best attempts to keep it back. That fucking fluffy mop of hair. It was going to be the death of her. A little voice in the back of her brain felt like it would probably feel pretty pleasant to run a hand through it. Maybe that was why he did it so often. The rest of the band were still deep in conversation, to which he threw in the odd remark every now and again. She was enjoying just having the moment to study him. If she stared at him for this long when he was actually paying attention, he would’ve given her shit for it a good few minutes ago. His movements all seemed calculated as he played his cards and planned his replies, the expression in his dark brown eyes shifting from relaxed to concentrated whenever he had to do something.

  Everything about him was just constantly dragging her in, and it was safe to say that she had taken the bait. Hook, line and sinker. She’d been dying to see him after how they left things on tour. Especially after the fact that she had just been about to finally give him what he wanted. It was like she’d finally allowed herself the chance to be openly interested in him, only to have to cram her feelings back up again. His offer to come out here certainly hadn’t been unwelcome, it was just unexpected. That coupled with his sincerity since she arrived was both heart-warming and also mildly disconcerting as she couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. But at that moment, all she could think of was how happy she was right now. To be here with him, and their friends, in his house, after a day of being shown his favourite nooks and crannies of London. He seemed to be going out of his way to give her a good day. This was a Matty that she only ever saw glimpses of most of the time. As that thought crossed her mind, he glanced down at her to check that she was okay. Considering that he hadn’t heard anything from her in a little while he was slightly worried that she had passed out or something, but he was surprised to find her staring back up at him. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but she just continued watching him, now not looking away from his gaze.

“What?” He eventually asked.

“I’m super into you.” She answered honestly.

  For a brief moment, he was fairly certain that the planet physically stopped spinning and that time stood still. He let out a short laugh in disbelief at her blunt response to try and cover up his rapidly increasing pulse. The alcohol had been intended to loosen up his own tongue about internalised feelings, not hers. “Really?” He asked, grabbing his phone off of the table and holding it towards her. “Can you just say that again into this recording device so that I can play it back to you when you’re sober?”

“Sober me knows it too.” She said with a nod. The wave of relief that washed over him at hearing those words was unparalleled. He choked back his feelings for a minute to continue his train of thought.

“Then why doesn’t sober you ever fucking admit it?” He asked as he reached out and tapped her forehead.

“You have a big enough ego as it is.” She said as she waved her hand dismissively in his direction. He couldn’t deny that was a solid argument. “And also admitting it means having difficult conversationsssss.” She added, slurring her words slightly.

He frowned at that. “I mean, it doesn’t have to.”

“It does. It does for me.” She said with a nod. “I’m gonna get another drink.” She declared as she stood up and walked inside. Matty watched her carefully, noticing the slight stumble in her step. He threw his cards face up onto the table, following her into the house.

“Guess he’s not coming back.” Ross chuckled.

“I’m taking his chips.” George said quickly before anybody could stop him.

  “Conversations like what?” Matty asked as he pulled the glass door shut behind him and followed her into the kitchen.

“Like where we end up after I say that.” She explained as she glanced over all of the bottles of liquor spread across the counter.

Fuck. That was pretty much Matty’s number one worry as well. But he wasn’t about to let that stop him from at least trying. “Why do we have to think ten steps ahead?” He asked, racking his brain for an actual end game plan. “Can’t we just… start with step one?” He offered, seeing her go for the bottle of vodka and moving to grab the coke for her.

“Step one is a slippery slope to step ten.” She shot back with a pointed look.

“I promise I’ll slam on the breaks at step five.” She gave a light laugh at his joke as she poured her drink. “Really though, would it be so bad to see where it takes us?” He questioned, leaning against the counter.

She sighed as she put the coke back into the fridge. “But you still don’t have any idea where that might be, Matty.”

“Why’s it up to me?” He huffed as he pulled a hand through his hair. Why did he have to be the one making the big calls all the time?

“Because you’re the one in the world-famous band who has to work and travel all the time.” She had a valid point. “You need a plan about how to make that work.”

  She started heading back towards the door to continue chatting with the rest of the boys, only to feel Matty’s hand catch her wrist and pull her back towards him.

“Wait, I-” He started, feeling like he had more to say before this conversation was left to drunken half-memories. But for a man who was usually so eloquent with his words, his mouth was running dry now. And as the seconds ticked by in silence the tension in the air just continued to grow. He glanced down at his hand still on her wrist, wanting to find the solution to all of this that would instantly fix his problems and stop this burning feeling in his chest. It was almost definitely the alcohol talking but she was finally fucking over waiting and dealing with the constant flirting. So, she leaned in to kiss him, thinking now was at last the time to just give in. Just get it over with. Let herself be into him. Let herself act on it. Only to feel his hand on her shoulder holding her back. As much as he had been dying for this - her, it hadn’t exactly been his intention to make a move when she had just made it clear that she was waiting on him. He couldn’t let her throw herself under the bus like that, not after he knew how much she had already had to drink. He flashed her an apologetic look. “Sorry, love. That wasn’t…” Fuck, why couldn’t he just get the words out? “Not right now.”

“Why?” She frowned, eventually finding herself laughing. “It’s you who’s been pushing this for the last six months.” 

“We are definitely not on the same level of inebriation right now.” He said with a small chuckle. “Another time.” He promised.

  As soon as they stepped back outside, George could feel the awkward atmosphere that wafted out with them. He hadn’t quite heard what they’d been saying at the table before they went inside, but knowing Matty’s intentions when he invited her out here, it was probably safe to assume the topic. As opposed to letting his two friends stew over whatever had just transpired George got to quick work on changing the topic and including them in the conversation to get their minds off of it. Within a few minutes the vibe in the room had gone back to what it was at the start of the night. Drinks continued into the early morning before one by one people started putting themselves to bed. The rest of the band decided to crash at Matty’s place to save themselves trying to get home while they were shitfaced. Ross passed out on the lounge, Adam managed to make his way to the empty spare room, George found somewhere or other to rest his head. Which left just Y/N/N and Matty sat outside finishing off their last drinks. Their conversation earlier in the night wasn’t playing on their minds as much as it would be if they were sober, but it still sat somewhere in the back of their brains, waiting to be addressed. Matty decided that would be best left until tomorrow.

  He took the last sip of his drink before setting the glass on the table. “Ready to call it a night?” He asked, stifling a yawn.

“Mmm… sure.” She muttered with a shrug. “You gotta carry me, though.”

He gave an incredulous laugh in response. “I have to what?”

“Carry me.” She repeated.

“Why on earth would I do that?” He asked as he stood up from his chair, feeling his head spin for a moment before he felt sure of his feet. That last joint probably wasn’t wise.

“Because I’m too drunk to navigate your treacherous staircase back to my room.” She explained with a pout. He looked down at her, feeling his resolve quickly crumble around him.

“I’ll help you; I’m not carrying you.” He offered as he held his hand out to her to help her up.

“Fiiiiiine.” She huffed as she took his hand. He wrapped an arm around her and tried his best to manage not one, but now two drunk people getting up his concrete stairs. After much laughter and stumbling, they managed to make it to the first floor of his house.

  He led her back to the spare room that she was set up in, making sure that she was safely on the bed before pulling his arm away.

“Let me know if you need anything.” He said as she kicked her shoes off and crawled into bed.

“Where are you going?” She asked when he started making his way out.

“My room?” He answered with a confused frown.

“Why?” She questioned as she rolled over. He didn’t really know how to answer that. “You should just stay here.” She mumbled with her face half in the pillow. Fucking hell. First the kiss and now this? It was taking every ounce of his self-restraint and sense of standards to not just say yes. Was this what she had felt like whenever he pulled shit like this on tour?

“Not tonight.” He chuckled as he switched the light off. “Sleep well.”

Last Chapter

Next Chapter

[sharperthewriter]

How the Rockwaller Stole Christmas (2/2)

(PART VI) The bad guys all slithered and snuck with vile smiles most unpleasant

Around the entire den and living room, they took all the Possible presents

Ann's jewelry set and new brain surgeon tools, Kim's new Kimmunicator The Tweebs' drone with a flamethrower nicknamed "The Incinerator" James' rocket set, Joss's mechanical horse went amiss And his latest version of "Fortress"! She even took Larry's Bernalus Senator action doll as seen To her, it would look even better soaked in gasoline But that's not all, no.... For she had more gifts to steal, though. Bonnie wanted to inflict more damage to them. To that point, she had Junior steal Ron's PSX720 and "Zombie Mayhem"!

Once the den was taken care of, there was the next phase of the plan. The kitchen was the next victim room, if one can understand. Junior and the henchmen seemed invincible like the Terminator They then began to raid the refrigerator They took the Possible's feast This included Nana's lemon-squares and even the Roast Turkey Beast. They cleaned out the fridge quickly like The Flash They even took the last can of Slim Possible's Montana potato hash.

They took all the toys and food out the open door, not too far. To the 'borrowed' trailer hitched on Cruella's 'borrowed' car Bonnie giggled with glee "Now..." the Queen grinned, "Junior, take the tree!"

Just as Junior did so, she almost made a fatal mistake One of the members heard the sound, turned on the light, suddenly awake Bonnie gasped and quickly instructed the henchmen to hide. Leaving only Junior without a hiding place inside. She feared that this would be Kim Whom would not be afraid to use all 16 styles of Kung Fu against her and him. To her amazement, she saw that it wasn't a Possible who got out of bed. But it was a STOPPABLE instead.

(PART VII) Hana Stoppable had heard the sound and came to. She, at time, was no more than two.

She was adopted by the Stoppable parents, not a few months sooner Ron once even called her "The Intruder"

But her big brother loves her so much If one enemy harmed a hair on her, they would DEFINITELY regret that touch

Coming out of bed Hana stared at Junior and said: Santy Claus? Why are you taking our Christmas tree? Why?

Junior, learning from his lessons with Shego Knew a perfect lie It was to boost his ego And to keep their plan alive

"Why, my sweet dear..." the fake Santa fibbed "There's a burnt-out light on the tree..if you can see.. Bonnie smiled, for she taught him to ad-lib For it is so Junior gave out a big Ho-Ho-Ho "I'm taking it back to my workshop up the North Pole My elves will work on the tree that also has a huge trunk hole."

Hana did indeed observe the hole in the trunk He instructed one of his 'elves' to put the tree in a very large sack. "Don't worry, I'll bring the tree right back."

The fib easily fooled the child And Junior patted her head. He gave her a warm glass of milk And sent her to bed.

Once Hana left the living room space The henchmen, and Bonnie, came out of their hiding place She exclaimed "That was extremely close. Now let's finish up the job, you dog

Take the last thing in their house! The yule log!"

Junior took the Possible's log for their fire. The HenchCo henchmen left nothing but hooks and bare wire.

(PART VIII) It was now quarter to 6. Bonnie and Junior were doing their final tricks. They had stuffed every last bag and tied it with ties. Bonnie gasped, looking at the sunrise. "Junior, start the car! "We have to make sure the Possible's Christmas will not go far!

And to his intuition Junior went into the car, followed by Bonnie, and started the ignition The DeVille vehicle sped off from sight From the theft of the Possible house that occurred during the night. The henchmen's HenchCo automobiles followed as well To make sure that everything Possible-related burns in the flames of Hell

About 4,000 feet up outside the city limits of Middleton The car came to a stop at such precision. Bonnie asked "Junior, do you have the two tanks of gasoline?" Junior took out the tanks from the trunk, so that they could be seen "They are right here, my love, for it will be brighter Once we set the gifts and food on fire." The henchmen also got out of the cars too To unload the trailer filled with the gifts and food They moved the trailer from the DeVil car 1500 feet away So that no fatalities or injuries would result that day.

"Wait..." Bonnie paused, stopped and stared, "The Britinia CD! That is the only gift to be spared If the disc doesn't skip or hinder."

"But the rest of it? Burn it to a single cinder!"

One of the henchmen gave her the gift she wanted the most. They have now received their instructions to reduce everything to toast.

"Before you can do that, I must hear... ...The sound that the Possibles most fear" Bonnie insisted with, again, her sexy grin "I want to relish my victory, my triumph, my win!"

She was constantly humming

"As we speak, the Possibles are finding out now Including Kim, the big, fat redheaded pig-cow Their Christmas is not coming. That will definitely make up for me being sad For all the crappy Christmases I had!"

Junior added, "They're waking up, and their mouth with drop for a minute or two. Then the Possibles in the Possible will cry boo-hoo!"

(PART IX)

"This is a glorious noise...." grinned Bonnie, "....that we simply must hear. Both Bonnie and Junior  paused and put a hand to her pierced ear.

The evil couple did hear a sound rising over that heavy snow. It indeed started low, then....it started to grow!

To the Evil Couple's shock, the sound from the Possibles wasn't sad. This sound was more in the area of....glad!

Every Possible down in the Possible-house The tall and the small Was singing their carols without any presents at all.

The Queen hadn't stopped the Possible Christmas from arriving, it came. Somehow, in the mystery of life, it came all the same. And the Queen and Junior, with her  boots cold stuck in the snow, stood puzzling Puzzling and wondering and mustering How could it be so?

It came without her mother's jewelry case! It came without the wannabe's Kimmunicator! It came wihout her dad's rocket set! It came without the Tweeb's Drone Incinerator!

Junior suddenly thought of something his tiny mind hadn't before. "Maybe the Possible Christmas....means a little bit....more!"

Bonnie gasped. She hadn't thought of this. Of Junior having a change of heart on her evil list. "Junior, what the Hell have you been smoking?"

"You really must be truly joking!" But Junior gave Bonnie a treasonous reply. With a bit of a small sigh

"No, my beautiful brunette! It's the Possible family coming together that is the primary reason To celebrate their Christmas season." Bonnie growled. She didn't know what to do at this junction. Her family, with all of its gossip and intrigue, erred on the side off dysfunction. What happened then?

Through the TRUE meaning of Christmas, Junior's heart grew three sizes that day. In a sort of a miraculous way. But then, from the city, came a loud holler The Queen gasped in horror after recognizing that voice: BONNIE MARIE ROCKWALLER!!

This left her no choice.

(PART X) Bonnie sneered, thinking for herself, "If you don't have the gumption To do a lot of destruction. Then I will do the evil deed myself."

She  swiped the gas cans away from Junior's hands And was about to accomplish her own dastardly evil plans. Bonnie gave an evil cackle What she didn't expect was a hard-charging tackle From the 'redheaded pig-cow' she had called Kim moments ago The gasoline went onto the DeVille car to and fro. "Now, Tweebs!" the world-saver yelled, tackling her rival in the attack Both Jim and Tim freed the drone from its prison sack. With the flamethrower as its primary weapon, it's target in sight. It breathed fire on the gas-covered DeVille car, ready to ignite. The DeVille Car blew up in a blaze of glory Of twisted Detroit (actually UK) metal and steel (and thankfully, things that are not gory) The HenchCo henchmen, seeing this destruction Tried to get out of here, wishing they had jobs in construction. But almost all of their vans stalled out and didn't move, to their dismay. Ron and Rufus has loosened their air from their tires, and Rufus said OK!

"Bonnie....you should know better than that in this sitch!"

"Of all the evil things you have done, this is the most wrongsick of all, you evil witch!" Growled Kim, wresting with the brunette. "K, it's no fair of what you and your fam are doing.

Living next door to me, and enjoying Christmas while I stare out of the window, losing!" Kim then replied, "Then why don't you move out?

Before I force you on me my puppy-dog pout!" And she did make the PDP

Bonnie covered her eyes, not wanting to see.

Not literally, Kim gave Bonnie a black eye. Thankfully, Hana told Ron about Junior's flat-faced lie. As if the Christmas Day started off worse on Bonnie, for sure She then tripped and fell into a pigsty filled with manure.

What Bonnie didn't know was that Junior, finding the meaning of Christmas came through. He now has the strength of 50 henchmen, plus two. With his heart hadn't felt quite so tight. Junior, Ron, and Rufus.  up the only active HenchCo van in the morning light. The one minivan whose tires were not slashed Bonnie screamed as Kim cuffed her rival behind her back, the former's reputation now gashed.

Junior descended down toward Middleton eating crumpets And Ron blew out a charging tune on the top of the van from his ramhorn trumpet.

Everyone went back into Middleton And went back to the Possible abode and released the toys. To Joss, Cousin Larry, and the Twin Possible Boys Junior brought back Ann's jewelry box and Kim's new model Kimmunicator. The drone carried its toys to the den with its' now-closed incinerator. Larry was especially delighted a lot When he received his versions of Fortress and Everlot He even jumped through the hall on a football That Junior gave him back both his Bernalus Senator action doll

Everyone, except for Bonnie, brought everything back, including the food and feast. And to the youngest Rockwaller's shock and disgrace Adding a banana-cream pie to her face. Junior even....carved the Christmas Turkey Beast.

Though Kim interrupted the festivities and said, "You know, Junior, both you and Bonnie will be serving time in prison instead."

"The police are going to arrest you for the robbery that you two performed last night And of course, they are going to read you the Miranda Right You still did the crime You still are going to have to do the time. As for Bon-Bon, the School Board will decide your fate, you stupid clod And also for your position on the MHS Cheer Squad.

So, Bonnie and Junior were led away in the wagon, facing their stupid decision Of doing this crime that would definitely lead them to prison "Now..." the driver said in a familiar voice. "...you two have done well as so You especially, Miss Rockwaller, have obeyed "The Villain Code" Both Junior and Bonnie smiled with delight, for they recognized his evil demeanor The driver took off his mask, revealing to be Senor Senior Senior

For Bonnie's relationship with Junior, everything was forgiven. When Junior gave her a wad of $500,000 rolled up in fresh crisp Benjamins "You have chosen your mate wisely, young lady, Except for the fact that my son suffered a good gaffe But no matter, when the weather is sunny or shady We shall all practice our evil laughs!"

And they all laughed in the wagon for sport While Senior took them on helicopter to the island from the airport.

THE END

[valkirsif]

Unthinkable CH 33/???

Tom Hiddleston x reader

Word 3200

Warning SMUT

They passed on to greet Tom's family before heading to the airport, Y/N felt nervous that she wanted to stay a little longer in London and would stay if the idea of ​​not seeing Tom for weeks had not been so unbearable, she looked out from the window the city that paraded in half a day would arrive in LA

"Thomas where will we stand once we land?" she asked feeling foolish for not having inquired before, "You didn't tell me anything and I'm starting to be curious," smiled,

"If you promise not to get upset, I'll tell you ..." he replied mysteriously, the woman shook her head and laughed it was a similar phrase from him, "... I found a delightful place .. in the hills .. completely glassy" said hugging her,

"Like glass?" she asked in amazement, "shall we live in an aquarium?" laughed, it was not her idea of ​​privacy a glass house but she would have adapted, "the next time you ask more questions" told himself admiring the city.

The driver parked in front of the entrance and unloaded the few baggage they had while Tom took a trolley, Y/N smiled trying to disregard the people who had been staring at her since had come down with her companion from the car, many had pulled out the phone to steal some shots, Tom took her hand

"Let's go" he smiled before kissing her, the couple entered and headed for the company counter to pick up tickets and check in, a group of girls approached as they moved to reach the gate,

"Can we take a picture?" they asked excitedly

"Certainly," the man replied as always courteous and affable, took a couple of shots and Tom signed the photos, Y/N watched the girls leave with the precious booty,

"..That luck ..", ".. we came on purpose ..", "..you saw how beautiful his girlfriend ..", the woman smiled reaching Tom who was waiting for her,

"Sorry it's so strange until recently I was like them and now I'm the envied one" she laughed shaking her head,

"It's really a strange thing, the fans think they know me and many envy what I have and you, they don't imagine how hard my job is," he said taking her hand, "And how heavy it can be for those who are with me constantly moving or paparazzi ", the woman kissed him, she didn't know what to say, still didn't know that side of her new life, they called their flight and moved towards the bus with the other passengers, a hostess led them in first class and served them Champagne,

"Thank you" said Y/N with a smile,

"If you need anything else, ring the bell," the girl replied politely before disappearing to welcome the other passengers, fastened her belt and checked phone, read family's last messages and said goodbye before turning it off, she had never heard this before. ready for something in her whole life, turned to Tom who was talking on the phone and smiled at him, the man squeezed her hand, ended the call and prepared to leave,

"I will miss home but I'm so glad you decided to follow me," he said, smiling at the woman,

"Home is where the heart resides" she replied, "And my heart is with you, I don't need four walls to be happy .. I need you" reached out to kiss him as the plane rolled on the track and realized it was true, she needed nothing just her man to stay healthy.

11 hours later she opened her eyes as the plane landed, fell asleep without realizing it,

"You're getting used to flying darling," Tom smiled, breaking his belt.

"I never would have thought it possible but yes" replied Y/N stretching and getting ready to go down, they retrieved the hand luggage from the hatbox, thanked the stewardesses and went to the terminal, Tom looked for a trolley while the woman watched the suitcases turn on the belt waiting to see their appearance, unlike the departure they were greeted by groups of fans waiting, the driver who was waiting for them had a sign with the name of Tom in plain sight, Y/N laughed and went to the driver with the cart while Tom was besieged signing autographs and taking pictures,

"Well arrived Miss, load the car," said professional,

"Thank you, we come right away," replied the woman, retracing her steps to reach Tom,

"Ok, ok, I did 11 hours of flight, if you calm down you will have all my attention" he was saying aloud raising his hands to calm the fans, his "armies" subsided instantly, the woman smiled and knew how much the Tom's voice could be hypnotic and fascinating, a few minutes later they were in the car,

"Does Mr. Hiddleston want to go to the set or take you home?" asked the driver before starting the engine,

"At home it's fine, thank you," Tom replied, squeezing the woman,

"I am amazed by how they calmed down as soon as you asked," Y/N said absently as he watched the view, "I thought it only worked for me," smiled tightly at him,

"Sometimes this thing amazes me too I admit it" he laughed relaxed, "I hope you like the accommodation, while we are here you could take a tour and see if there is any house of your taste, it could make us a nest," he said, the woman nodded was not a bad idea, Tom's work would make them go back to the studios often and having a place to call home and just hear it made her feel good, turned on the phone to warn that they had landed

¥ Guys all right, we arrived and we are going home ¥ she wrote merry

¥ We know ... the social networks were faster than you ¥ Roby replied posting the photos,

¥ And we also know that the flight was quiet .. ¥ Marco replied by posting a photo of the two of them sleeping on the plane,

¥ But what the hell ¥ Y/N couldn't understand about all that media coverage, ¥ Even during the trip ?! ¥ thy chatted for a while, the speech soon turned towards the upcoming wedding, it had just arrived and would be off again after a couple of days,

¥ I confirm that I will arrive in Athens on Thursday, see you in Skopelos on Friday? ¥ asked for confirmation, ignoring the renewed invitation to tour the city,

¥ Sure, place all ferry timetables and accommodation addresses! ¥ said Franc sending a link, the car stopped in front of a high gate surrounded by a fence.

A woman was waiting for them smiling, she didn't look like a real estate agent but rather a secretary, she went to the car

"Welcome" she said cheerfully leaning against the door, "Mister Hiddleston these are his schedule" handed him a folder "..and here are the house keys and the alarm code" concluded by giving him an envelope before saying goodbye and going up on the scooter to go back to the studios,

"I open the gate wait in the car," he said to Y/N, leaning the folder on the seat, the gate began to move, Tom climbed back into the car and entered the property, the woman looked at the garden with fascination, a row of low pink lilacs marked the sides of the driveway there was no trace of trees in the park only green grass and some lilacs used to delimit other areas, at the top of the avenue there was the house, it looked like a big cube, the roof was flat and surrounded by a fence the outer wall was stone with a large window in the center, the woman found her beautiful, preferred a more classic style but appreciated the stone, made it imposing and safe, even if she suspected that she could not enter anything without being noticed or reported, the cameras were everywhere hidden on the lampposts, between the vases, they descended from the car Y/N looked around, the fence hid from property all the property, a path led to the opposite side of the garden, would have all the tea I want to explore it when Tom was at work,

"Well come my queen," the man said, opening the door and making way for her, the interior was as bright as the outside, the glass reigned supreme, excluding the dividing walls the house was really an aquarium, the large windows opened on everything the park, the glossy white marble shone in the reflection of the windows, a sliding door at the end of the room gave access to the infinity pool surrounded by sun loungers and covered tables, looked out to admire the view, the house was built on the edge of the slope now he understood because they had used so much glass, no one could look inside unless they fly,

"What do you say?" the man asked hugging her, "Do you like it?"

"Thomas I am speechless this place is beautiful!" she replied turning to kiss him, "I'll have to get some sunglasses, as soon as I wake up all this light would kill me ... like vampires" laughed biting his neck,

"I make a couple of phone calls, finish the tour of the house I will reach you" the man said, opening the folder Y/N smiled to himself as wandered around the house, it would often happen that Tom isolated himself to work, opened a door in down the hall and followed the corridor to the kitchen, also with a large window in place of the wall that overlooked the valley below, it made her dizzy but she didn't notice anymore when she explored the room, it was her dream kitchen, super modern and equipped with all comforts, a mixed cooking oven, induction cooker, a panel touched the screen on the counter next to the burners and a menu was opened for the toast plate and the one for the waffles, touched the image of the second and a compartment of the counter moved to raise the plate, all the accessories were hidden, the woman was elated turned to the fridge and found in the ticket attached to the door

# The fridge is connected to the store, to do the shopping just write the code and send the list, purchases will be delivered within 2 hours #

the door lit up as soon as the woman touched it to open it, it became a sort of glass, she could see the empty interior of the fridge without opening it, she was astonished, immediately moved to the shopping list and made her first order, she wanted to have all the food necessary for at least a week even if the man would have lunch at work wanted the evening dinner to be perfect, returned to the room and went up the stairs, thought they would take them to the roof but found herself in the sleeping area, there were 4 more bedrooms the master one the privacy of the rooms was guaranteed by curtains of various thickness, the suitcases were placed on the bed, since Tom was busy he opened them and began to arrange the luggage, they had very few things with him, the man would have spent almost all of the time on the set and the woman had brought just a few changes in case she wanted to go and visit the city, put the only evening dresses in the closet checking that they hadn't spoiled during the trip but found them perfect, the secretary who had helped her was used to packing for Tom, retraced her steps and, not finding the man in the room, went out and walked around the house, the back garden was incredible, next to the pool there was a sort of fire pit, she had seen similar ones in the movies, the seat was full of cushions and protected by a glass firewall, on the opposite side there was a masonry bbq with a long wooden table and benches, it seemed to browse through a magazine, Tom was still on the phone with the script in his hand and gesturing, Y/N smiled and went into the kitchen to get a drink, the fridge was empty but the cellar was well stocked, luckily there were also some juices as well as wines from various vineyards, took two glasses and blueberry juice and reached the man,

"My king, how can you be so awake?" she asked sitting next to him,

"For me it is quite normal as a business trip and I have never suffered too much from the jet lag," he replied relaxedly, "Are you tired?"

"More than tired I would say out of tune, having slept in the plane I feel quite rested physically but for my head it is night ... I don't know if I have explained myself well" she smiled putting her head on the man's shoulder,

"I understand you quiet it is normal to feel so especially on the first long flight" he stroked her head, "I know what it takes to get better .." said, getting up and taking her hand, they started toward the pool, the woman stared at him suspiciously ,

"Now let's take these away ..." he said starting to undress her, Y/N smiled complicitly letting him do it, feeling his hands on her while she took off her clothes made her wake up immediately,

"... a friend on my first flight to America told me that the best way to combat jet lag ..." he whispered, taking her in his arms,

"What did he say?" she asked excitedly, Tom smiled before throwing her into the water,

"It's freezing!!I hate you Thomas," she replied laughing,

"He told me that a good swim is the best cure," he shouted, bursting out laughing in turn, "Is it better darling?" asked undressing to reach her,

"Freeze and wake up thanks" she laughed, spraying him, the man dived and stood beside her in an instant, he was a good swimmer

"It's not so cold," he said, hugging her, "The view is beautiful from the edge," he invited her to follow,

"I can see it from here too," she said, standing far from the sheer edge, the flight had tried enough with heights for a just one day, "Maybe another time Thomas" smiled, the man came back to her

"Won't you be afraid ?! You just did an ocean flight this is nothing in comparison "he teased her, squeezing it,

"I'm already admiring the most beautiful thing in the garden, I'm not interested in the landscape at the moment," she whispered before kissing him, anchoring herself to his sides, "I think of an isolated pond in France ... don't you?"

"Mmm, I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, biting her earlobe, moving toward the edge with his precious load,

"I probably remember correctly ..." the woman gasped, "... or maybe I was with someone else"

"My nymph confuses lovers?" he said accusingly kissing her neck as brushed her back against his nails, "And what happened in the lake of your memories?" asked curious, continuing to kiss and bite the woman's neck and shoulders , Y/N felt the man's hands caressing and holding her,

"I was taking a bath and a man appeared, the most beautiful I have ever seen and he joined me in the water .." she began to tell, panting, the man supported her without saying anything, "... he pushed me towards the rocks and he started kissing me .." immediately Tom moved towards the smooth edge of the pool leaning against her

"So?" he asked, ceasing to torture her for a second, "Then what happened?" looked at her straight in the eye, the woman kissed him and, following his game, began to tell how difficult it was to be taken by excitement,

"... he stroked me, I felt his nails on the skin ..." she said sliding her hand over his chest, going down to his abs, "... he kept kissing me until he got to the breast .. at that point he bit me .. "

"And you rebelled?" he asked before moving to her breasts and squeezing her nipples, the woman mewled

"... I would have liked but I liked what he did ..." answered stroking his cock gently, "I didn't want him to stop "

"..You are a little impudent nymph ..." Tom panted, scratching her thighs,

"..It's not my fault .. he subdued me with his eyes .." she smiled guilty feeling the hand of the man make his way between her legs, ".. he played with me .. when he put his fingers in my pussy it was late to rebel ..." said in a whisper, the man was circling her clit continuing to bite her neck, Y/N could not go on, was out of breath, trying to keep control while touching him,

"... continue darling .." Tom moaned, "... is it over?" asked, sliding his fingers inside her, moving slowly in every turn, favoring the rhythm dictated by the woman

"..Not .. I'm not sure .. I don't remember well" she panted

"Really?" the man asked, stopping, "..it's a real shame .." whispered, "Maybe I can help you .."  slipped his fingers from her pussy and took her by the hips, Y/N rested her hands on the board arching enjoying Tom's cock penetrating her, "... do you think of anything? .." he asked, slamming it against the pool tiles,

"Maybe .." she mewled clinging to his shoulders, "... I remember his strong body fucking me ..."  answered kissing him, she couldn't continue "... don't stop ... don't stop please ..." prayed as the man dogged her body with growing vigor, his cock digging into her with greater and greater rapidity, he kissed her passionately, taking her breath away, squeezing her legs you have the man's hips and he came choking the groans on his neck,

"..My beautiful nymph .." he panted on her skin, tightening and enjoying her, the two remained embraced, lost in each other's eyes,

"Passed the jet-lag honey?" the man asked kissing her, the woman nodded laughing, "Thank you princess for having me, I like playing with you, I love you and I love the joy with which you give me all of yourself" he said stroking her back,

"Oh Thomas I love when you take me that way, I love being able to be but when we make love" she smiled leaning against his chest, the sunset was a wonder seen from the garden, the air was cooled, the lights came on by themselves brighter as night fell, the couple came into the house, Y/N sat down comfortably on the large sofa and fell asleep while Tom was on the phone again,

"Darling later we have guests .." he said, returning to the room, smiled found her sleeping, took a blanket and covered the woman's naked body.

[atruththatyoudeny]

MONTHLY READS | November 2018

I’m so sad I’m too late for Fandom Appreciation Day but I still want to thank every author on this list for the hard work and for sharing their stories with us! »Top 5 stories + 13 more I enjoyed under the cut« Half a Million Strong by kiddle | Woodstock | famous/not famous | enemies to friends to lovers | 50k Everybody is really looking for some kind of answer where there isn't one. Why would 300,000, 120,000, 60,000, 70,000 people come to anything, just because it's music, you know? I mean, is music all that important? I don't really think so, but people don't know, you know. They don't know how to live and they don't know what to do and they think that if they can come here they can find out, you know, what it is or how to maintain it. It’s just, like... People are very lost. -Jerry, festival goer August 15th, 1969, New York. Louis Tomlinson is a young writer for a relatively new-on-the-scene rock magazine called Rolling Stone. His assignment is to fly across the country to cover the highly anticipated Woodstock Music and Art Festival. Armed with a notebook, audio recorder, and a camera, Louis just needs one big interview. Harry Styles. A new name in rock music and a future name in rock history. His first album sold tens of thousands and his interviews attract audiences across the country. He has the poetry of Jim Morrison and the stage presence of Mick Jagger. And after seeing him perform at the festival, Louis is willing to jump through hoops to put Harry on the cover of Rolling Stone. When You're With Me by dimpled_halo | terminal illness | minor character death | kid fic | angst | fluff | 33k “Louis, wait.” Harry blurts out. Louis turns his head toward Harry expectantly. Harry’s heart races and he doesn’t know why. He’s never felt this nervous around someone before. He reaches for his wallet in his back pocket and pulls out a business card handing it over to Louis. Louis takes it in his hands and reads it before gazing back at him. “Um. Don’t hesitate to call me if you ever need anything.” Louis nods in acknowledgment, a small smile curving on his lips. “Thank you, Harry.” Harry returns the smile. “Have a good night.” With that, Louis climbs out of the vehicle looking back once on his way to the front door and waving at Harry. He ignores the way his stomach flutters, and pulls out of the kerb to head home. * Harry feels immediately drawn to Louis when they meet for the first time. Unfortunately it's under sad circumstances that leave Louis as a single father. Before Harry can offer his support, Louis is gone just as soon as he'd come, but he leaves a lasting impression on Harry that he knows he'll never forget. It isn't until a year later that they cross paths again and Louis changes Harry's life in ways he didn't expect. The Compulsion to Find Love by Toomanytears | a/b/o | worldbuilding | angst | fluff | slow burn | 140k The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known. Save me...... by SavageMonkey | kid fic | emotional hurt/comfort | angst | humor | 59k Harry is struggling with the loss of his partner, raising his daughter Addie all on his own. He is hoping to find solace at a local community center grief meeting. Louis is dealing with his own loss, but has a whole new approach to life that Harry didn't know existed. Harry is a successful personal chef. Louis is a star of the stage. Cameras Flashing by juliusschmidt for HL Famous/Not Famous Fic Exchange | a/b/o | famous/not famous | coming out | practice dating | 81k With his breakout single platinum three times over and his second album still selling out in stores around the world, Louis Tomlinson has made it to the top. However, his position as Pop Heartthrob of the Decade is threatened by the edgier, more artistic Zayn, who happens to be releasing an album a week after Louis’ upcoming third. Louis needs something groundbreaking- scandalous, even- to push past him in the charts. Much to Louis’ dismay, his PR team calls in The Sexpert. Consulting with PR firm Shady, Lane and Associates pays the bills so that Harry Styles can spend his down time doing what he really loves: poring over data. On weekends and late into the evenings, he researches gender, presentation, and sexual orientation, analysing the longitudinal study that is his father’s life’s work. That is, until his newest client, the popstar with the fascinating secret, drags him off his couch and frighteningly close to the spotlight. As the album’s release date approaches, will Tomlinson and Styles be able to pull off the most risky PR scheme of the millennium and beat Zayn in sales or will the heat of their feelings for each other compromise everything? 

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Sounds Like Heaven by howtogetawaywithlouis | angst | exes to lovers | hate to love| fake/ pretend relationship | famous/not famous | homophobia | islamophobia | depression | anxiety | alcoholism | emotional hurt/comfort | kid fic | cheating | pining | 30 k Louis is screaming, and he should consider toning it down cause Sandy is sleeping on the same floor, but tears are starting to gather around his lashes and his voice is slightly quivering, and he doesn’t care about waking her up as much as he should. All he can think about is how he’s been such a fool that a woman is going to steal his girl and his man, and he’s completely helpless cause none of them both were entirely his in the first place. “Louis,” Harry whispers quietly, his hand coming to rest hesitantly on Louis’s shoulders. “You know it’s not going to happen.” Louis shakes him off and takes a few steps away. “No, I don’t.” He grips the bottle of champagne and goes to pick up the glass from the sink. His throat is tight and it hurts to swallow, so when he speaks again, to a Harry who looks sad and frustrated, it’s with a simple murmur. “I’m going to bed. You can show yourself out.” --- Or, a very painful au where singer/actor Harry Styles and songwriter Louis Tomlinson are married and have a daughter, but are not together any more. Except of course, it’s not that simple. Our Sweetest Memorial by messofgorgeouschaos for HLRegencyVictorianFicChallenge | Regency | slow burn | hate to love | mpreg | exes to lovers | 34k Ever since Harry was forced to break off an engagement five years ago, he resolved to never marry for the remainder of his life. Now his family must move out of his beloved Kellynch Hall to recover some of their debts that their father had accumulated. The last thing Harry expected was for the new tenants to be related to his former fiancee. And for that fiancee to come back to Somersetshire a much more wealthy man that still holds resentment for their past. A Persuasion AU. Lend Me Your Hand by QuickedWeen for HLRegencyVictorianFicChallenge | Regency | soulmates | soulmate-identifying marks | light angst | fluff | hate to love | 63k Society has long since decided that the soulmarks everyone is born with are entirely unfashionable. They're just another way for people of a lower class to scam their way into marrying above their station. Lord Louis Tomlinson, Viscount Loring, on the other hand, has always believed that he will find his soulmate one day. Despite preparing for a match his whole life, he is entirely unprepared for the arrival of Gemma Styles' younger brother. Harry Styles has been traveling and away from society for over a year. Coming back, he intends to spend time with his sister, and slowly reacquaint himself with life in town. He doesn't need to wait around for a soulmark to determine how his life will play out. Like Two Softened Shoes by marie24 for HL Fic Fest (2016) | coffee shops | pining | friends to lovers | 13k He sets his laptop on the bed, backing away and running his hands repeatedly through his curls. Okay. This is okay. This is fine. This is not real. Will peeks his head around the door frame. “Uh, everything okay in here?” Harry tries to keep his breathing under control. “Yeah!” he says. “It’s, um, everything’s fine!” He can hear himself talking really loudly. Will looks doubtful. “Are you sure? Because it really seems like -” Harry barks out a laugh, cutting him off. “Okay! So this is going to sound really strange. But.” He looks at Will, with the same shiny fringe, blue, blue eyes, and sharp cheekbones he’d been writing about the whole last week. He worries his lip frantically between his teeth. “Um. I think I… I think I… wrote you?” Or, Harry is a writer who gets through his writer’s block by pouring his feelings for his best friend Louis into a character. A few days later, the character lands in his bed, three dimensional and with no idea how to get back where he came from. He turns out to be very inconvenient for keeping Harry’s feelings to himself. Lemon eyes by turnyourankle | a/b/o | friends with benefits | minor injuries | light angst | 50k It's not proper for omegas to mess around with alphas before finding their bondmate. But Harry doesn't give a damn what's proper and fully intends on getting as much experience as he can before even trying to find one. As far as he's concerned, the right alpha won't care, and he'll have some fun on the way. And who better to start with than Louis Tomlinson, the alpha with the worst reputation on campus? If Ignorance Be Bliss by seemyselfout | friends to lovers | Coming Out | overhearing sex| slow burn | 30k “Uhh” Louis hears first. Then the creaking. The fucking creaking of it all. The bed, which Louis knows is basically a glorified camp bed with its awkward wheels at the bottom and wooden board behind it, begins thudding. The banging is rhythmic, Louis can’t help imagining the poorly stifled moans of them both, Harry’s awkwardly lanky limbs and skinny hips jerking with about as much finesse as an eighteen year old can manage (read: not a lot). There is a moment where Louis is almost certain he hears Harry say “shhh, uhh, my roommate” and... The audacity of that. Louis is simply too outraged now to do anything, including get turned on, and simply waits until Harry’s stupid dick gives up (it sounded like she didn’t come - Ha, Louis thinks bitterly). Uni AU: Harry is too experienced, and Louis just wants to get to experience him. The light is coming by ishiplouis for HL Mpreg Fic Exchange 2018 | a/b/o | mpreg | hurt/comfort | angst | 10k Louis was cold. So fucking cold. He was hungry too. He hadn’t eaten a real meal in a long time. He’d lost count of how many days he hadn’t eaten correctly or, rather, he didn’t want to remember. He wanted to forget. Forget that he was now alone. Well, mostly. He cursed his faith. He wasn’t supposed to end up like this. He was supposed to go to college, find a mate, and graduate with honours. Maybe he would have to apply right after graduation to some job offers but thankfully his father would intervene and would find him a job in no time at one of his friends’ companies. Then he would get married and be finally mated by his Alpha. In this dream of his, Louis would end up with three beautiful pups, a huge house with a white fence and a wonderful mate always caring for him until his last breath. That was how it was supposed to happen. Louis put a hand on his slowly hardening belly, a single tear rolling down his cheek. It wasn’t fair. Or the one where Louis is lost but Harry is there to save him. I Spy Baby by mynameispiaivy for Girl Direction Fic Fest | Girl Direction | love/hate | 7k “Wait, Lou. I have a penlight.” “A what?” “A penlight. You know, a pen with a small flashlight on it.” She could feel heat rising on her wet face. ”I know what a fucking penlight is?” “Well, I just thought it would be safer if we used a penlight instead of your lighter in this place. Something might catch fire, you know.” She says this matter of factly. Louis closes her eyes as she counts from one to five. “Okay, you’re right. It’s better to be safe than sorry. Now, use your damn penlight so we don’t trip on some dead person or animal inside here.” “It would smell if there’s a dead person in here, you know.” “Oh my god, Harry. Can you..just fucking turn on your damn penlight so we can see where we are going?” “Geez, you don’t need to shout. I’m practically beside you.” **** Harry and Louis are lost in the woods. I can't help myself from how my heart is racing by flicker_album | strangers to friends to lovers | Gym AU | mutual pining | 13k Louis is just trying to be a good friend by working out at the gym that Liam owns. He never expected to (quite literally) run into Harry, the hot boxer who sings embarrassing songs in the locker room showers. Baby Honey by delsicle | a/b/o | historical | World War II | established relationship | mpreg | angst | 14k When the next great war strikes, all alphas have to ship out. Alex leaves a little more behind than some of the others.

[spidizzlemizzle]

Lying to Protect

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, mention of Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,383

Warnings: Angst, mentions of sexual activities but no detail, a bit of sadness

A/N: This is song imagine based on Lie to Me by Five Seconds of Summer, lyrics and flashbacks are in italics. Feedback is always encouraged and appreciated. Enjoy xx

masterlist

Two months.

You went off the grid two months ago. You had cut myself off from the avengers, the people you called family, two months ago. You had moved to San Francisco, cut your hair short, and was so close to changing your name. This decision was 100% reasonable and rational even if some believed otherwise. For months, the missions you were assigned to had been rough and made you return home harmed in one way or another and exhausted every time.

The event of your final mission had been the final straw. Innocent civilians had been killed and you hadn’t been there in time to save them.

A young girl had spotted you and asked you to spare some change for an ice cream before the chaos ensued. She was there, in the midst of disarray and destruction. Lifeless. Her unmoving body laid amongst the rubble, eyes staring into your own, your mind screaming at you, saying it was your fault. This whole mess was, all the lost lives were your fault. You remained silent the entire ride home and packed you bags as soon as you slammed your bedroom door behind you.

That day would haunt you forever.

But as each day passed, it became easier to handle.

And so did the fact you had left your entire life behind because of said day. You had believed that life would stay in the back of your mind, replaced by your now mundane, average life, but things never seemed to go your way.

“Hey kid, just thought I check in on you, hoping you’d stop by the tower one day soon and come see the gang, how’s that sound?”

Tony’s voice rang through the phone; you had never expected to get back in touch with Tony but kept his number in case of emergency. You considered the idea of seeing them all again, what if they didn’t want to see you anymore? It was a fair question, you left without saying goodbye or anything else to any of them ever since.

Tony waited patiently on the other side of the line; he knew you needed time to register what he was asking of you. He heard you take a deep breath after a few seconds and got an answer he was hoping for.

“Alright, when works best for me to come back?”

“How about this weekend, everyone’s staying here for a few days to hopefully just relax and recuperate”

“Then I’ll see you Friday, yeah?”

“Perfect” He ended the call with that, turning to see Bucky in the doorway of his lab.

“Who was that? New recruit?”

“Nope, an old friend’s coming back to see everybody” He smirked at the metal armed man in front of him, only getting a confused glance in return.

“Do I know this old friend?”

“Yeah, quite well actually” Tony stepped past Bucky, pat him on the shoulder and left him alone to think about it. He knows them quite well. Who was it? No, it could not be who he thought it was, could it? You’d left months ago, why would you come back?

Friday rolled around quicker than expected. Bags were packed and flight was booked. You became slightly nervous as you approached the airport and texting Tony to let him know when you thought you would get there. You looked out the window and thought of everyone who you had left behind. You were lost in thought when your driver had pulled into the airport and helped you get your bags. You thanked and payed the man, pacing to your terminal and preparing for the six and a half hour flight you were about to endure.

Tony was aware you were in the state the second you stepped off the plane, you had kept him posted every step of the way, there was no way you would leave him in the dark now.

You decided to walk to the tower. It wasn’t far and the cool, fresh air helped calm your nerves slightly. Each step closer to your old home made you tense and almost nauseous.

The entrance was in view sooner than you hoped, but it was too late to back out, Tony knew you were basically standing in front of him and soon enough, you were.

“[Y/N]” He stood with confidence oozing from every pore, a delicate smile on his face.

“Tony, long time no see” You stepped forward and placed your hand out to shake his. Instead of reciprocating the simple action, he grabbed your hand and tugged you forward, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. He pulled away but held you upper arms firmly as if you would run away if he didn’t.

“Look at you, your hair is so much shorter, your style, that’s new, not bad though. Most importantly though, you look incredibly happy, it’s a good look on you” His eyes ran over your form as he made you laugh softly.

“You’re not looking too bad yourself for an old man. Although, I’m pretty sure you didn’t invite me here just to compliment my new look. You gonna let me inside?”

“Oh yeah, of course, everyone’s gonna be so surprised to see you”

“You didn’t tell them?”

“Thought it would be better not to” He didn’t mention the brief interaction with Bucky or him at all, he didn’t see a point. He guided you through the main entrance and to the elevators, updating you on your friends, Steve, Nat, Sam, Thor, Clint, Bruce, and himself of course. Bucky’s name wasn’t mentioned once. The talk of Steve stuck with you. Tony had said he was well and you were hoping that was true more than anything. You had always been in love with that man, he didn’t need to know that though, he didn’t need to be burdened you.

A small bell dinged in the middle of your calm conversation, indicating you had reached your level.

“And here we are. Most people are currently out but I’m sure there’s a few stragglers around the place. You want a drink?” You shook your head and took a seat across the kitchen island to him as he reached for a drink from the fridge.

Steve and Sam returned to the tower after their run, heading up to the kitchen in the elevator with simple banter of Sam’s agility compared to Steve. They exited the elevator and walked down a short corridor, hearing a familiar laugh from their destination.

Steve could never forget that laugh, it almost haunted him in his dreams. His smile dropped as he saw her sat in her old spot at the island, an easy conversation between her and Tony. This couldn’t be real, she couldn’t be back. He cleared his throat, making Tony’s head snap up to look at the men in the doorway.

“Steve! Sam! You guys are back! Look who else is!” He was like a small child who got a new toy, giddy to show you off to everyone else. You looked over her shoulder and smiled. You turned the chair to face him and stood, obviously not sure what to do next so you simply waved and let out a small “hey”.

I saw you looking brand new overnight

I caught you looking, too, but you didn't look twice

You look happy

You look happy

“Hey, it’s been a while, how are you going?” He could be mad at her later, not in her presence. She left him without a single word, turning hi into a complete mess for the first few weeks. He thought you shared something and you’d stay with him no matter what. It had happened before; he had reason to expect that.

“I’m sorry Steve, I have to go” Tears nearly spilled from your eyes but you couldn’t let them. You were only going to be in London for three weeks and it was stupid to cry over that. It wasn’t forever.

“Please [Y/N]; just stay here, going to London has no benefit in any way so why bother?” he held your hands and desperately tried to keep you in New York. A smile spread across your face and you faced the ground. He had won, he knew he had.

“Alright I’ll stay” He pulled you to his chest and lifted you off the ground, spinning you around as you squealed and giggled at his actions.

Flashing back to New York City

Changing flights so you'd stay with me

Remember thinking that I got this right

The elevator dinged once more and the other super soldier emerged. Unlike the others, you were surprised to see him. Tony hadn’t said a single word of him and you assumed he wasn’t around.

“Buck” It was all you could say as you made eye contact over Sam’s shoulder. He stopped and held the eye contact for a few extra seconds.

“[Y/N], I heard you were coming back” He smiled weakly and you nodded. Tension built in the room until Tony spoke from behind you.

“Should we leave you two to catch up?” Bucky nodded, feeling like the privacy was necessary. There was a lot to discuss. Tony pulled Steve and Sam out of the room and down the hall to his lab.

“What is there for them to talk about in private exactly?” Steve asked and leaned against a desk.

“They have history, thought it would be best for them to figure things out on their own” Tony only shrugged.

“History? What does that mean?” Steve was becoming impatient; he felt he deserved answers from Tony.

“It means they have a past they only they should be talking about” Tony didn’t feel like explaining the relationship between you and Bucky to the two men in front of him.

“What happened between them?” It was Sam’s turn to ask a question. Tony sighed, he wouldn’t get out of this easily if he didn’t just come clean about what he knew.

“All I know is that they slept together and didn’t want anyone knowing. Anyway, it was a long time ago so it doesn’t even matter” Tony left the room and went to the elevators, needing to get out of the situation he had made.

“They what?” Steve was thinking aloud. Why had neither of his best friends told him about this?

Steve felt angry and sad all at the same time. He thought back to a mission over a year ago that had taken a toll on the whole team assigned to it. Steve had sat with you and comforted you as you cried into his chest.

“It’ll be alright, I promise. You are so strong, you’ll get through this” His words helped calm you down. You stood from your place on the couch.

“I’m gonna go check on Bucky. Thank you Steve” and with those words and a small kiss to his cheek, you left the room and wasn’t seen for the rest of the night. Steve had found it odd but brushed it off.

He felt stupid, completely and utterly hurt by the fact you had left his comforting arms for his best friend.

Now I wish we'd never met

'Cause you're too hard to forget

While I'm cleaning up your mess

I know he's taking off your dress

Steve’s head had struggled to process the information for the rest of the afternoon and well into the night. He tossed and turned in his bed until laying on his back and staring blankly at the ceiling. He laid there for a few moments, accepting the fact sleep wasn’t going to consume him anytime soon. Turning his head to face the bedside and the small, digital clock, he saw the time.

3:24am

It's three A.M. and the moonlight's testing me

If I can make it 'til dawn then it won't be hard to see

That I ain't happy

I ain't too happy

He groaned and pulled himself out of the bed and made his way down the hall and into the elevator. Exiting and head to the kitchen, he was surprised by the sight in front of him.

You sat neatly in that same stool, tea in front of you and hands grasped around it, desperate to absorb its warmth. You heard the footsteps approaching and turned to look over your shoulder. Seeing Steve in the doorway, you offered a tight-lipped smile and turned away from him once more.

“Can’t sleep?” You spoke quietly but just loud enough for him to hear from the entrance.

“Yeah, can’t stop thinking” He sat down beside you and leaned into the backrest.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Turning your head to look at him, you smiled.

“I was thinking about you actually. And Bucky” You knew what he meant. Guilt flooded you and you looked away.

“Tony told you, didn’t he?” You stirred the tea with the spoon placed delicately in the mug. You didn’t need to look up to know he nodded.

“I should’ve told you, I’m so sorry. It was a onetime thing and I didn’t think it was a big deal at the time” You explained yourself but still refused to look at him.

“Do you love him?” His words caught you off guard, making you turn to him fully now.

“What?”

“I said do you love him?”

“No, Steve, I don’t love him” His accusation hurt, Steve thought you loved someone else when he was the only person you felt anything for.

“Okay” You stood and placed your mug and spoon in the sink as he whispered the singular word.

“Goodnight Steve, I hope you rest now that you have closure” YOU placed a hand on his shoulder and ran it to his other as you walked past, giving it a small squeeze before letting go and walking away.

“Wait, [Y/N]”

“What is it Steve?” He was hesitant, fiddling with his thumbs and staring at the marble benchtop.

“Do you… Do you love me?” He lifted his eyes to gauge your reaction and response. He got nothing, just a blank, slightly saddened stare.

“I’m sorry but I can’t give you the answer you want, goodnight Steve” And you left.

And I know that you don't

But if I ask you if you love me

I hope you li-li-li-lie

Lie to me

[ladyofmind]

August is over? Recap time...

First things first... Between Patreon and other tasks, I dropped off towards the end of the month... I’m sure you saw the #CharactersHell board that took my time and, most importantly, brain stuffs.

We have, however, organized it so that future boards should not be as hard as the first one.

As long as it is as well received as it’s other game, by the same @M_arbanassi (on Twiter) #CharactersHell should have just as amazing a community as #CharactersTell. Tell focuses on the characters every week. Hell is a monthly board covering a little bit more, including us authors.

Basically, those two tags are my guaranteed game plays for the foreseeable future. The question will be what other ones will I be playing this coming September?

While I ponder that, here are the old answers...

#wipwordsearch  AKA  #RedLettersTeasers

1- Sly had a way of #schooling his features so that no one could read him. If Gus was happy about it, he could be happy for Gus. Still… "But why do some of the women have pointy weapons?"

2- He followed her lead carefully, since they were not in his place, & he made sure to lower only his top half. They could stare at his jean clad #back side for all he cared.

3- Rolling the blanket over herself like a sleeping bag, Tweet felt for her note #book in the dark, finding where she left the pen in the page, half heartedly scribbling notes she hoped she would understand in the margins.

4- That she would have to cover with make up, and that would have to work for the #bags under her eyes too.

5- At least two of the biggest #gossips of Soul were furiously, but covertly, trying to get her attention.

6- She still needed him around, and Malta would miss her #crush too much.

7- The kindnesses came back ten fold, as Nate catered Martin's musical event, with the chocolate man making a lifelike red guitar that shined as if it had a fresh coat of pearlescent #paint.

8- His long black hair fell to one side, and hardly covered any of the piercing or tattoos, which covered his arms and neck in a sea of darker #colors.

9- Nira wasn't the only one #catching on to the language from exposure.

10- "You don't have to read it, if you don't like it." Woods' movements slowed, as he scrunched #up the material of his shirt.

11- She wasn't by any means an #expert, but one knew quickly which ones felt like sucking lemons, due to the way they pulled her face of their will, and which ones she might want to drink again.

12- The point was made, she was #playing with house money, and she would win.

13- Seemed this new Soulful was #true to it's name, and proving more interesting with each visit.

14- NO WINGS

15- Remmy rolled the window down, and waved at Woods, a sigh escaping him. "#Hurry up slow poke. I think you should be offended, but that's my opinion that you don't always listen to talking.

16- NO ESSENCE

17- Remmy was getting #sick of repeating himself. "Just go talk to Tweet…."

18- By the simple look of a wedged arm and crumpled leg, she knew to #avert her gaze, that seeing the parts of limbs was close enough.

19- Spoiler if posted SLASH

20- Not that this was any type of pet, it was somewhere between a tiger and #house cat in size.

21- NO CASCADE

22- NO LITE

23- "Seems like you have a musical connection with everyone you meet." Her words had been a double-edged #sword to him.

24- One #building caught her eye, with its sheer size and stain glass details.

25- Plus if he loitered too long, he'd be late to #class.

26- Once #inside, she showered and found herself staring into her closet.

27- She needed to remember to encourage them all to have lives #outside the bar.

28- Staff loyalty and respect was next on the ever #growing list.

29- Even nearly #falling onto a guy and barely keeping her red rubies caged looked classy.

30- Angus and Scotty had the good sense to first agree with Woods, and then do their darnedest to get Brandon to #leave while he was still in one piece.

31- They were out in the public, it was #chilly, he was sure there was some law about it, and was she ready for what she was trying to do?

#CharactersTell

1/8- Woods back again! The band and I thought it was time to talk again, especially since this month is art themed, and we are artists *someone snickers* Don't start that again mate… We're glad to be here in… (The Red Letters series)

2/8- Woods- Of course! We're musicians, so that is our favorite.

Brandon- "Women too"

W- "A fine bird's form can be a masterpiece yes, with legs for miles and plump shapes."

3/8- Woods- "Yeah mate, Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, couple of car places. It's my passion, so why not go see it in a museum too if you can?"

4/8- Woods- "We play rock music, but I have listened to all kinds in my life. Never know what will inspire that next song of your own."

5/8- Woods- *laughs while the boys chuckle* "I prefer relaxed movies, in the sense that thinking too hard kills the buzz. Ain't nothing too relaxed about the movies I watch, especially if we just finished filming it."

6/8- Woods caught elbowing the blokes on the couch with him. "Unless this is Play boy, the answer to that question has to be music." *preoccupied by trying to help cover Brandon's mouth.*

7/8- Woods- "Maybe you haven't heard of us, but we are already famous for being a band. Tour regularly, another album in the works, so on and so forth. That's my legacy. Rock and roll lifer."

8/8- "Thank god! Woods doesn't shut up. Brandon the lead singer and better showman ready to take control of this band interview…"

9/8- Brandon- "Depends what you're talking about. Realistic women, but their ink can be anything. Just better not be ugly where I have to stare at. Say no to cutesy tramp stamps."

10/8- Brandon- "Sure, action movies are my thing. Love a good Bond girl if you know what I mean…"

11/8- Brandon- "The only art I understand is music. Beyond that, I don't need to fake it, I just don't care."

12/8- Brandon- "Designer all the way. You don’t get on sexy lists wearing ill-fitting bargain basement bullsh*t. Plus the free clothes or marketing money isn't bad when you're famous."

13/8- Brandon- "Women. Enough said."

14/8- Brandon- "Certainly not gentle, in any way. Fair in music consideration, but mostly critical everywhere else."

15/8- "Hey, you want to talk to me too? I'm Remmy, just the friendly security to Woods and occasional band wrangler when the manager is busy." *tips fedora in greeting, stepping up to stand behind Woods on the couch*

16/8- Remmy- "I like visiting museums for my hobbies yes. Then again, it depends on how you define art, as this one puts away food like no ones business, and this one has the habit of being the bands lightweight. That’s weird place art no one asks for…" *taps BGC*

17/8- Remmy- "After listening to this bunch bang around all night and day, I like to listen to a smooth station, or at least some smoother oldies."

18/8- Remmy- "Is it any different than watching the headbangers? Always wonder if they wake up with whiplash the next morning…"

19/8- Remmy- "Besides these guys? Not exactly. Plan on going to see someone and some music will play its part soon enough…"

20/8- Remmy- "My only art is information. Its how I keep Woods safe, keep the band life smooth and easy… Maybe in that way, I have picked up the juggling skill?"

21/8- Remmy- "What are you talking about? That's definitely the sort of question that skips over my head." *tips his fedora and straightens his bigger old school mod style jacket.*

22/8- *Silence until Remmy prods a man* "What? Oh yo! Tour life's been rough man, gotta get your zzz's in when you can. Especially when Remmy rattles on." *straightens up* "I'm Josh aka Angus, and this is Scotty the drummer" *Drums on Scotty's gut to wake him up too*

23/8- Josh-"Got new bass art, and tattoos. My wifey doesn't like me looking at much, or it's an earful."

Scotty-"Man at least you get to look. My wife won't even let me play drums in my house because of the baby. I get kicked out when it screams like a metalhead."

24/8- Josh & Scotty- "The Terminator Mockingbird T800 comes to mind." "Did you ever see the Heineken drums? Or the plastic video game fakeness?" *nudged by other band members before they accidentally speak in unison* "My wife."

29/8- *Both laugh, then Woods speaks for himself and Remmy* "Neither of us draw, and if we did, it would mostly be bollacks and bristols in Sharpies when the other passes out."

R-"It took a week to get the last one off  my chin…"

30/8- *Brandon talks over his bandmates* "There is a rather poorly done, wrong sided sort of bio out about me, but yes, I want more books about me, done CORRECTLY."

[teresabert]

Some died of hunger, some of cold, some of sickness.

Some died of hunger, some of cold, some of sickness. "I just don't want her to feel the way I did. Too few horses and too few riders. Even if they won't win the CT, if they could compete well, that's all matters. Foot traffic is not permitted through any gate at Andrews Air Force Base.. You get the feeling that once either King Kane or Anderson go then the house of cards will fall fairly quickly to Lyon. No physical skills will be taught, but information on classes for women will be provided to those who want to learn physical self defense. There are several areas in which VIPIR and Doppler 5000 overlap, and we make choices based on the haibike e mtb 2020 situation, plus having both gives us a backup in case something goes wrong with one system bottines cloutees femme or the other. A small life, well suited for a small creature such as you. The handle of the dipper is used to find the bright star Arcturus. Elsewise she was sure to have a dozen blades concealed about her person. High heels help a women feel more confident and pretty. I had no home but White Sword Tower. The inner square of the VVM is made of heat sensitive material that is initially light in colour and becomes darker when exposed to heat over time. Nellie was still ashamed to express her feelings too openly, too unrestrainedly.. The sellsword kept the night watch by himself, rising as the rest of his band sought their beds and retiring when the sun came up.. Ser Barristan went out onto the terrace. I not pointing fingers, I just saying this is important stuff and we should have really been talking about it sooner so that you could have the input you needed to help make a decision. And. We have not the fine-spun intelligence nor legal acumen to discover the technical distinctions drawn by gentlemen (that is, the distinction between female slaves and brood mares). “Let her ruin me, let her torment me.” Elena caught up the words feverishly. The FX 8370E has a 3.3GHz base clock and 4.3GHz Turbo, while the FX 8370 has a base clock of 4GHz and a peak clock of 4.3GHz. Currently, there are more than 9,855 people in the region who are experiencing a progressive dementia.. If you Mens ADIDAS ORIGINALS don experience something like this, then it harder to understand it," said Taylor, who founded The Ladybug Foundation when she was eight. A wiser man would see a caution in that. Role playing chanel ágynemű how they'd handle problems. Lower spoke counts, such as 24 or 32 per wheel, mean that when one spoke breaks or weakens, the other spokes have to carry an even higher load relative to the spokes on a 36 spoke wheel.. Goop isn simply a website or weekly newsletter, it is an indispensable resource.ABOUT NORDSTROMNordstrom, Inc. I’ll wager you get your meeting too, if only so Rags can have Pretty Meris cut your liver out and fry it up with onions. 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[fallout4holmes]

Journal 12 cont’d

Med-Tek Research was surrounded by ferals.

“This is why I haven’t gotten it by myself,” MacCready muttered. “There are even more inside. Hey, maybe there’s a benefit to bringing a synth. I mean, not like there’s anything on you to chew. You could -”

Valentine scoffed, “First time I met a feral, I hoped it would ignore me because I wasn't made of meat. Turns out, they'll eat anything.”

“Of course they will,” MacCready sighed. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“I appreciate you changed your mind after finding out they’d still try to eat me.”

“Yeah, well, the boss likes you.” He aimed his rifle. “You guys ready?”

Between the three of us, the ferals were dispatched and the way made clear for us to head inside. I thought nothing of the ferals at first - many medical facilities are often filled with ferals, due to the population being unable to escape when the bombs fell. However, Med-Tek had a more sinister background.

The facility was in lockdown; our initial task was to find the executive terminal and turn it off so that we could proceed into the labs. After a hard fight through countless ravaging feral ghouls roaming the dilapidated and darkened halls, we found the terminal. I lifted the lockdown… and paused to look at the data I’d found.

“Come on, we don’t have time,” MacCready impatiently whispered. He was right, and I’d seen more than enough. We made our way down to the sub-level, where the bulk of the research was done. A nauseating smell assaulted us; it was clear we were the first people to descend in likely centuries. We soon realized, however, that there were quite a few people who had never left. We found a series of rooms, all sealed, all with ferals inside.

“Must have been locked up in here when the bombs fell,” Valentine said, “but why?”

“The terminal in the executive office,” I explained, “recorded an authorization of lethal force on anyone who tried to escape the facility after it was put in lockdown, anticipating the War. The executive then made his own escape.” I didn’t bother trying to contain my disgust, “The terminal also recorded patient procurement costs rising.”

“They were bought!?” Valentine was outraged.

“And experimented on, likely without consent. Then left to die, locked away.”

“Only they didn’t die.” MacCready fumed, “What the hell was wrong with these doctors? How could they just “switch off” their morality?!”

“I don’t think it was called the “Hippocratic Suggestion,”” Valentine agreed.

“I’m in full agreement,” I said, “but there were a great many things before the War that would put the criminal activities of the Commonwealth to shame. It just took the world ending to bring them to light. Come, let’s find the one bright point in this godforsaken place.”

In a lab on the lowest level was a single small red syringe labeled Prevent; the miracle cure. MacCready was overwhelmed. “We did it... holy crap, we actually did it! We just gave Duncan a fighting chance to live. I don't know how I'll ever be able to pay you back for this... I owe you big time.”

“Still balancing the books?” I asked, bemused.

He grinned a little, “Always.”

“You just worry about getting that cure to your boy,” Valentine said. “That’ll be payment enough.”

He was touched, “Thanks. I'm… I'm getting tired of taking instead of giving. Maybe one day I'll learn to get my priorities straight.” He took a breath, “Anyway, the last step ahead of us is getting the cure to Daisy in Goodneighbor. With her caravan contacts, she's the only one I trust to get this to Duncan on time. This is the last favor I'm going to ask, I promise.”

We got out of that horrible place, prize in hand, and ran to Goodneighbor as fast as we could. Daisy, who must sleep even less than I do, was counting her stock. She greeted MacCready fondly, a sentiment that MacCready returned, and was thrilled to hear about our success. The cure in Daisy’s capable hands, her reassurance that it would be delivered as fast as possible, and it was as if a great weight lifted from MacCready’s shoulders.

“I still can’t believe it,” he said to himself as we left the store. “Here. I know you keep saying I don't owe you anything, but I do, more than I could ever repay, so… take this.” He handed me a carved toy soldier. “My wife Lucy gave it to me, back when we first met. I know it's a strange reward for risking your life, but it means a lot to me.”

“A soldier?”

“Yeah. I, uh, told her I was a soldier and she made it for me. Never could bring myself to tell her the truth... that I was just a hired killer. The soldier story was the best thing I could come up with. I didn't want to lose her because of what I was.”

“Did she ever find out the truth?”

“No. It doesn't really matter anymore... she died a few years back.”

“May I ask how?”

“We made the mistake of holing up in a metro station one night. We didn't know that the place was infested with ferals. They were on her before I could even fire a shot. Ripped her apart right in front of me. There was nothing I could do. Took everything I had to escape with Duncan in my arms.” He sighed, “Maybe it would have been better if we'd died there with her. I guess that’s awful to say, but sometimes…”

I understood what he meant far too well. “You miss her.”

“Damn right I do. No matter how bad things got, she was always there with a shoulder to lean on. It gave me... well, it gave me the courage I needed to press ahead... to never give up.”

“You’ve kept pressing ahead, even in her absence. You may have lost your wife, but you saved your son. Twice, now. That counts for something.”

He was quiet for a long moment. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Will you follow the caravan?” I asked.

He was surprised. “I don't know. Didn't think I'd get this far… I want to see my son, but between you and me, I was a lousy farmer. He's been staying with friends of Lucy’s, but I don't think they can take me on, too. Not sure I could stand it if they did.”

“Why not bring him to the Commonwealth?”

“Are you serious?”

“Once he's made a full recovery, of course.”

“And then what? I'm still a hired gun living in bars and hotel rooms.”

“You could be a soldier.”

Valentine chuckled, “You sure got a thing for taking in strays.”

MacCready stared at me a moment, then looked at Valentine. “... he's not joking?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“There are a number of settlements that would be happy to have an extra gun,” I said, “and have more than enough resources to provide for you and your son.”

“You’re serious.”

“I am. Consider it, please.”

“I will.” He laughed softly, bewildered, “You have the world's problems on your back and here you are helping me with mine, for the third time since we met.” He stuck out his hand, “I got a lot of business to take care of before I catch that caravan.”

I shook his hand with a smile, “Good luck, Mr. MacCready. Send word to Diamond City if you need anything in the future. Or to any Minutemen base, they’ll get your message to me.”

“Thanks. You’ll be hearing from me, as soon as Duncan’s better.”

“I look forward to meeting him.”

He went back inside Daisy’s Discounts, and judging by her expression told her his plan. She gave him the information he needed, and he hurried off. She smiled at me when he left, and went back to polishing her counter.

“Well,” said Valentine, lighting a cigarette, “I’d call that a day’s work well done. Day and a half.”

“Yes. I hope the cure works.”

“If there’s any justice in the world, it will. Get a room at the Rexford or head home?”

“Neither. The Railroad has urgent business with me.”

He sighed, a cloud of smoke streaming from the gaps in his neck and jaw. “Alright, I’ll bite. How do you know that?”

“Deacon has been watching us. Drifter, no hair, sunglasses, pretending to be asleep on the bench.”

The “drifter” in question sat up in a huff, coming over to us. “Oh come on,” Deacon scolded in a harsh whisper, “don't blow my cover like that!”

“Change your style of sunglasses. Or better yet, don’t wear them. That would truly be a disguise.”

“I don’t think I can anymore. They might be permanently grafted to my face.”

“We’ve had a long day,” Valentine cut in. “So if you could cut to the chase, we’d appreciate it.”

“A bunch of Coursers escaped the Institute before it was destroyed, and every single one of them seems to have taken it personal. Pam managed to track one down to the Wattz Electronics building northwest of here. I’d go myself, but Carrington also got word of a synth refugee in need of rescue. He was captured by super mutants. I’m good, but not even I can be in two places at once.”

When I asked where the super mutants were located, Deacon named a scrap yard another five hour walk to the southwest. Valentine spoke before I had a chance. “I’ll take care of the rescue, you see to it that Courser isn’t going to be a problem anymore.” He turned to me, “And you head straight over to the hotel and get some damn sleep. You’ve already been up for twenty-four hours straight.”

“I've gone far longer than that -”

“Yeah, you've told me. The great detective putting his body through hell for the sake of a case, and before the War when all you had to worry about were idiots with guns you could probably do it. Nowadays, that sort of behavior will get you killed by an overgrown mosquito. I don’t have to stop to rest, and we don’t have time to argue.”

It rankled, but I conceded. Deacon handed him a care package for the synth, everything a refugee searching for the Railroad might need, and the two of them went their separate ways. I can’t stop thinking about the sheer number of ways this could go wrong. There’s no hope of my sleeping while he’s gone. I thought writing would help, but if anything I’m even more anxious now. It’s utterly irrational, I know full well that he is perfectly capable of getting a single person out of a bad situation… though there’s no way to know how many mutants are encamped, or how heavily armed they are. Damn it, I’m worrying too much.

[labgrownsteaks]

Erin was perched on the edge of her tree stump. The smell of fall hung heavy in the air. Guy remained quiet, and seemed to be meditating on a piece of tree bark he was slowly turning over in his hands.

"So, you realize you're like a mini legend in this town. It's really awesome to meet you! Do you live around here?" Erin asked

Dayla remained quiet, and continued to look at the yellow fallen leaves underneath her black converse. She kicked a couple of the leaves and dug her foot into the soil a bit. Then, as quiet as a whisper, she said "I was born here. Ya"

Cujo had curled up to my leg, and was nuzzling into my calf. Dayla continued. "They like you a lot" she glanced up a bit at me. "Yeah, Cujo and I are cuddle buddies! isn't that right hamsterhead!" I said as I vigorously patted her head. I couldn't believe the conversation was actually making sense. Somehow, through the acid haze, there were words coming out of my mouth, and they actually made sense. How can words even work? I thought to myself.

"Is it true you graduated from Stanford at just 14?!" Erin asked.

"Yes" Dayla replied.

"That's so cool. Good to get it out of the way I guess!" Erin continued.

"Sure" Dayla said as she gazed into the distance. "I gotta go"

Guy piped up unexpectedly loud, and blurted out "See YA! Great to meet you!" and we both looked at him a bit bewildered by the outburst. Cujo was now nestled into my lap nicely, and closed their eyes, her non existent chin wedged perfectly into the side of my knee.

"Ok. Bye then" Dayla stated plainly as she began to back into the woods. But Cujo stayed. Dayla looked up, shrugged her shoulders a bit, and continued on, with a dozen other dribbles hopping around her. She black silhouette again, going off into the distance. Guy continued to stare at the tree bark, and I looked over at Erin. It was then that I realized her face wasn't moving.

"Erin" I said. And then glanced at Guy. He was also frozen in time, staring straight at the little chunk of tree bark in his hands. I felt Cujo sit up in my lap, and I looked down, and she was staring right back at me. Instictively I stood up, looked to the figure in the distance, Dayla was gone. Guy and Erin were both frozen in time, and Cujo was sitting and looking up at me like an extremely serious gerbil. I shouted both of their names numerous times, and even poked Guy in the shoulder. Trying to see if they were playing a joke on me, but his body was stiff. The same for Erin. I rush of fear came over me. Could it be the acid? I thought to myself. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. Opened them, only to see the same exact scenario as before. Cujo walked up to my foot, looking up. Under my breath I said to Cujo "What the hell is going on" and closed my eyes again. Hoping the next time I opened them everything would be back to normal, if that was even possible. When I opened my eyes, Cujo had jumped up onto the stump I had been sitting on. It was then, that I heard Siri's voice coming from somewhere, speaking softly "Vitamin, shhhhh" she said. I look around frantically but couldn't discern where it was coming from. "Siri?!" I blurted out. Cujo had hopped off of her stump and was in front of me now. Her eyes were normally a deep black with a bit of brown trim. But now the outside of her eyes glowed blue. "Siri?!" I said to Cujo. Cujo blinked their eyes, and then spoke. "Vitamin. You must stay focused on the mission which you've agreed to." How could I stay focused when both of my friends had been turned into living statues and I was talking to a cyborg hamster that some kid made on Crispr.

"Please Vitamin, this is an extremely important mission which you've been chosen for"

"Fuck your mission! I'm not doing it!" I shouted at the overgrown furball.

"You already are" Siri replied.

"What the fuck are you talking about Siri! Bring my friends back!"

"In a few moments you will be joining them." Siri said calmy. "I want you to imagine you're in a movie theater, and it's pitch black inside, and only a screen is before you. And you drift closer, and closer to the screen"

At this moment I felt my eyes begin to get heavy, and my body grow limp.

"You're floating closer and closer to the screen"

I was in the movie theater now. My body levitating towards the blue screen in front of me. "You're going to enter into the screen, and when you do so, you will taken inside a building. It's a large office building. Grey carpet, the smell of citrus cleaner in the air, and cubicles, and cubicles full of computers and family photos. "

I was floating above a normal day in a nondesript office building. All of the workers were sitting on their computers, and some were chatting near the copy machine. I looked to my right, and there was guy looking back at me. To my left was Erin. Nobody said a word. I know I certainly couldn't speak, and I imagine neither could Guy or Erin. We all floated above the office workers. A door opened in the corner of the office, and we floated through it, and down a hallway. Siri's voice continued.

"Welcome to Quicksilver headquarters." Siri said in a somewhat sarcastic voice, knowing that she sounded like a corporate training video. And with that , we noticed our clothes had been changed into business casual wear. Guy had dorky glasses on, his hair was combed nicely. Erin had a black skirt on, a sweater and her hair was pulled back tightly. I was wearing a white button up shirt, with a blue tie with little intertwined bunnies on it. We slowly descended from the ceiling, and found ourselves outside a series of glass windows looking in on a warehouse sized room full of servers. A guy with curly dark brown hair and black rimmed glasses walked by, "Hey Guy Smiley!" he said as he walked by. They could see us. Out IDs hung around our necks on red fabric necklaces. A woman came down the hall in a brisk walk, and smiled at us, and I smiled back. She knew us. The servers, and the air conditioners in the server room hummed through the glass window. I felt my hand gripping my fob in my hand and placing it up against the reader next to the door. I was on autopilot. We all were. The lock on the door clicked twice and a light near the reader changed from red to green. I opened the door, and we all walked in. The room was awash in the white noise of servers and air conditioner units, and I don't think we could hear a word if any of us were yelling at the top of our lungs. We continued walking, turned down an aisle of servers, all of these LED blinking like Christmas lights around us, as we continued on. Another door, another key fob in my hand, locks clicking, light turning from red to green, and we were in another room. This room had been soundproofed, and there was three screens and a white desk in the middle of it.

I felt my hand digging into my pocket, and my pockets were full of these small little plastic rectangular things. Like little toys of some sort. Once my hand got out, I could see that it was a USB drive. Erin had walked up to the door, and was looking out, back into the sea of servers. Guy sat down at the computer and held out his hand. I gave him the USB, and he popped it into the computer. The computer sprang to life, and we were presented with a sign in screen, and Guy's fingers quickly typed the password into the keyboard without missing a beat. I stood over him, watching what was going on. In absolute fear. Everyone was completely calm, and collected. It was as if we had all been programmed to do what we were doing. I could see Guy had got into the terminal, and was typing commands like mad, as numbers and letters whizzed by the screen Matrix style. He pulled out the USB. Looked up at me. And we walked back out the door, into the noise of the server room, out the second door, we then levitated into the ceiling, out through the movie theater, and back onto Cottonwood grove. Guy was staring at a piece of bark, Erin was frozen in time, and Cujo was on my lap.